


How to safe a life

by Tomed



Category: Metro 2033 - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Cancer, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death In Dream, Complicated Relationships, Divorce, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Roller Coaster, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fear of Discovery, Forgiveness, Friendship/Love, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Internalized Homophobia, Loneliness, M/M, Mental Instability, Military Homophobia, Musophobia, One-Sided Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sexual Frustration, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11380605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomed/pseuds/Tomed
Summary: Artyoms married life wasn't exactly what he had hoped for. Well, there begins the conflict: He wasn't even sure if he had hoped for something at all.He still felt so guilty for killing the Dark Ones, his nightmares were so terrifying he could barely manage his daily life. And on top of that he was haunted by a pair of sad, blue eyes -and those weren't his wifes at all...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,  
> after re-reading every Partyom-mentioned work in here (I mean it: EVERY last one of it, at least 3 times!) I decided to give it a go. This idea was in my head for like AGES, so, yeah, here it is.  
> Please tell me if you find errors :)

**_Step one, you say we need to talk_ **

**_He walks, you say sit down, it's just a talk_ **

**_He smiles politely back at you_ **

**_You stare politely right on through_ **

**_Some sort of window to your right_ **

**_As he goes left, and you stay right_ **

**_Between the lines of fear and blame_ **

**_You begin to wonder why you came_ **

**_Where did I go wrong?_ **

**_I lost a friend_ **

**_Somewhere along in the bitterness_ **

**_And I would have stayed up with you all night_ **

**_Had I known how to save a life_ **

**_T h e   F r a y_ **

 

**WDNCh, 2036 **

Artyom woke with a startled breath. With shaking hands he wiped the hot tears from his face. He could still see these big blue eyes, wide open in pure horror and the blood. Oh god, the blood... He gulped. A disgusting taste in his mouth. He felt like he had to puke in any second. How could someone feel so miserable from a simple dream?

Gagging slightly he rolled to the side. It wasn't much thanks to the fact that he didn't eat properly the last days. Or in general. After the whole mess with the Reds his appetite wasn't as it used to be.

With a shaky breath he got up. Trying to focus. But he couldn't get rid of the images in his head. He dreamt of him over and over again. Bright blue eyes. He hated them. For being so overwhelming. For not letting him have peace. Still he mourned their friendship. Still he found himself wondering if the man was safe and sound.

Even after he turned Artyom in after everything they've been through. Their captivity by the Nazis. Their escape. The theatre. And then his betrayal. The torture from the Reds after that. And the incident at the Red Square...

It was painful to think about the man. And Artyom had left him there. Barely breathing. He sighed deeply. His dreams were the best proof of how much he still cared. It was ridiculous. He knew. It was almost 3 years ago that he decided to pull that bastard out of the tight grip of the Lost Souls.

He was too attached to that man. He couldn't let go. Couldn't let him die. Not like that. They had been musketeers. Only for a short time and even that wasn't something he was too sure of. Maybe Pavel planned to turn him in from the very beginning. How would he know?

But even if Pavel had those thoughts, Artyom couldn't find the energy to hate the man. At least not as much as he wished to.

Anna would say that he was insane for thinking that way. And he had to agree. He was entirely bonkers. It was sad to think of himself that way, but he refuses to do otherwise. Because how could he? He was beyond any help. Artyom's breathing stuttered.

[Maybe you saw something more in him. Maybe it's the same as it was back then. With me?]

"No!", he exhaled sharply, "Shut up!"

But he knew that Zhen had just started.

[You know I'm right. I'm always right. After all you should know best how you have looked at him.]

"That's not true!"

[It is. Stop pretending. Even he himself had noticed it. Don't you remember how awkward it was? After he caught you staring at his butt a moment too long?]

Exhausted and in sudden fear of being overheard he frowned before his mouth escaped a defeated sigh.

"I don't know why you keep talking about it. As if it mattered anymore..."

[It matters. You still dream about him. And not always about him dying in that building where you left him, or him drugging you, betraying you, letting them hurt you... You're beyond help, my friend.]

Artyom could feel his face heat up like fire. He was ashamed for being confronted with that particular (and rather intimate) secret.

"...I can't choose what to dream! ...And there's nothing wrong with it."

The last part was almost a whisper, full of low self-esteem. He knew it was okay to have interests not only in women but he felt bad for feeling that way. Zhenya knew about this conflict and fell silent. Somehow satisfied Artyom stood up and looked around. Thankfully Anna wasn't there. But in some corner of his mind he felt uneasy. She should have been back from her mission days ago.

He heard a soft cry to his left and in an instant all was forgotten and he rushed over to the little bed.

"Shhh. It's alright. Im here."

He lifted his son on his lap and wiped the tears from his little puffed cheeks. Bright green eyes looked at him, way brighter than his own and so pure. He loved his son. More than anything.

He felt bad for not realising his distress earlier. Porthos always seem to notice whenever Artyom was fighting his inner battles. He was so sensitive to his emotions it frightened Artyom sometimes.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you sad again?"

A stinging ache exploded in his chest. Immediately Porthos tensed.

"Have I asked something bad?"

"N-no. It's alright."

After a deep breath Artyom sat down on his bed, making sure his son was comfortable. The child was still looking at him with that strange worried look. Sometimes Artyom found himself wondering if there was more behind his adoption from the Dark Ones than him understanding their language. The Little One once said that he was now one of them, lesser human. Well, a part of him found that thought disturbing, but on the other hand... What if his genes were somehow different now? What if Porthos instinctively had access to telepathy? Was that even possible?

[It sounds ridiculous.]

"But how would we know?"

Porthos looked at him then. Strangely understanding where others would be utterly confused. It was exactly this moment that Artyom felt completely sure that his son had some sort of heritage regarding the Dark Ones. Artyom had mentioned thoughts like that shortly after Porthos was born to Anna... And just imagining the look on her face (like he had been a completely maniac for suggesting something like that) left him experiencing a cold chill up his spine. They both lacked the ability to understand each other.

[Be fair. Between you two you're definitely the complicated one.]

Artyom chuckled slightly.

"Yeah, I guess."

[She's not the one. You should have never married her, Artyom...]

Before he could start to argue with Zhen his son was struggling to get to the ground.

"Daddy, we have to feed Shura!"

Artyom smiled fondly and stroked through Porthos' adorable dark locks. The child immediately knew that he was allowed to go and hurried to get dressed properly. Shura, the little Watcher Artyom had rescued, was closer to Porthos then any human child in their Station. At the beginning it had concerned him deeply but he managed to accept their strange friendship eventually -at least to an extend. After all it had been his stupid idea to keep that pitiful little bag of muddy skin, fur and creepy eyes alive...

Sighing (he did that way too often over the last months) he also started to change his clothing. His son was right, Shura will need to feed. To his shame he had forgotten to do so the evening before. The Watcher must be pretty hungry by now.

"Let's go, honey."

Smiling widely Porthos lifted his arms.

"Please carry me."

Chuckling low Artyom lifted his son with ease and walked outside their tent, to the north tunnels. In one of the side tunnels he had created some sort of big cage, it was not like the ones the Little One had been tucked in, it was wide and had a rather nice bedding with many old clothes. It really wasn't less than they've got in their own tent. The Watcher had enough room for sure and it really seemed to like that place, at least that's what Artyom thought, because, seriously, if it wanted to go it could escape any time.

Watchers could ditch their way even through the sickest parts of the tunnels. Of course Shura was still just a baby but it surely could get deep enough to get under the poorly made fences he had come up with.

"Shura!"

With a happy cry Porthos struggled to get to the ground again and as soon as he hit the ground the little Watcher was there -all over Porthos, greeting him nearly as enthusiastically. It was a heart-warming scene that reminded Artyom of the fact that they were completely oblivious about so many things in this world. As soon as the thought was there he had Khans voice in his mind reminding him of the new rules of nature in this post-apocalyptic world.

With a slight frown he watched his son examine the body of the Watcher closely. It would've been amusing to watch if his son didn't look so determined.

"Porthos, what's wrong?"

"She's hurt, Daddy! Look!"

He pressed the little Watcher to the side to show Artyom its right side -there was a really nasty looking fleshwound. Artyom flinched when he saw his son's eyes already watering. He knew what was about to come and he wasn't sure how he should handle the situation. He wanted to do the right thing, didn't he? But what was the right thing to do?

"Daddy, she needs to get to a doctor!"

Artyom couldn't help the smile escaping his lips about the sheer innocence of his suggestion.

"That won't be possible, Porthos."

"B-But..."

Tears were streaming down, his whole body was trembling full of emotions. Possessive little hands were clenching at the Watcher. Artyom halfway expected it to react, like the dangerous creature it was. But she stayed still. Pressed herself against her little owner and yelped in a pitiful manner as if she knew what was at stake. Artyom sighed silently. Watchers were monsters, yes. But, well, humans weren't that different. He alone had almost extinguished the Dark Ones after all...

"We'll take her with us..."

Porthos' eyes immediately widened. Relieved he hugged the Watcher.

"Thank you, daddy!"

Artyom tried to straighten himself for the cold welcome party they definitely would get.

[Sukhoi will kill you.]

Artyom sighed.

"Maybe."

At best it would be just a really uncomfortable discussion. Chances were not too bad for him. His step-father was still really delighted that he came back, that he was alive. And even if that won't help him he still had his trump card of being the 'hero of the Metro'. Oh, how much he hated that title...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna being too curious for her own good. And a troubling message from Miller that let the married couple have quite an argument...

Anna watched her son drawing something eagerly on the ground. Next to him sat the little Watcher. Anna shivered. She had to look up to Artyom. He was with them on the ground, leaning rather comfortably against a wall. She was mad at him. Furious. God, why was her life such a pain in the ass??  
Everything regarding her mission had gone wrong, her leg was shot so she had to rest at least a couple of weeks, seriously that was unacceptable, and on top of all this she now had to deal with the fucked up ideas of her way too soft husband. He accepted a _Watcher_. It slept in their tent! Next to their son, for god's sake!  
  
Their whole community wasn't happy with this decision, but Artyom had made it pretty clear that he saw this creature as family. It was ridiculous. Their argument had been so nerve-wrecking. The Watcher wasn't the problem, they both knew it. She sighed and went inside. Artyom ignored her. It made her mad but at the same time she was so exhausted and...and sad. Why were they like this? Why was Artyom still a stranger to her?  
She sat on their bed and tried to get comfortable. It was merely 7 weeks ago that she had slept in there but still...It felt alien to her. She crawled inside and tried to relax her bandaged leg. Thereby she felt something under her pillow. She felt the texture and immediately knew that it was Artyom's diary. Anxious she looked outside. Artyom was cuddling with their son, Porthos seemed to need a rest. They just sat there, eyes closed. Completely at ease.  
  
She tried to ignore the sting she felt while looking at them. So peaceful. It hurt. Every time she left and came back she felt more alienated to her son. Why was Artyom so perfect with him? Both were acting so extremely close, everything Artyom did looked so natural, as if he was born to be a picture book father. She was jealous, yes. But she was also happy for her son to have such an amazing father.  
Feeling safe she took the diary of her husband in her lap, carefully watching the resting pair just outside the tent. Hesitant she opened it. She knew that she really shouldn't do that, but she was just so curious. And mad. If he would talk more with her she wouldn't be forced to read his diary to get at least a glimpse of what was going on in his head.  
  
_My escape from the Nazi prison could be entitled “The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend”. This friend’s name is Pavel. He led a Red recon team wiped out by the Nazis. I never liked communists much, but Pavel acted like a real hero._  
  
Every time it was this name. Major Pavel Morozov. Artyom wasn't much of a talker, but this topic was even more secluded than any other. Which meant that he had never talked about that man at all. If she hadn't been there the day he reported to her dad, she wouldn't even know that name.  
  
_We pulled off the impossible… Now I have to inform the Order that the Dark One is missing. Which means to acknowledge that I've failed my mission. But now, when he’s down in the Metro I won't be able to find him alone. I have to get to the nearest neutral station and then to Polis, the Order’s HQ. Pavel will show me the way._  
  
She scoffs. Artyom was sometimes so naive. It hurt to read this.  
  
_Having a guide like Pavel sure puts my mind at ease. It seems he'd been here before. And Reich’s peculiarities don't surprise him. I wish I knew what kind of mission he was on… But I just can’t find the right moment to talk. But Pavel seemed to know that Reich was poised for war beforehand, while to me this was a revelation._  
  
Yeah, what a surprise. Why didn't he thought about it for at least 1 minute? He really should have known that something about this man was fishy.  
  
_Pavel’s almost certainly going to hang. Who knows what would have happened to me, had he not released me? Red, blue, yellow - what difference does that make? He risked his life for me. You don't get that much in the Metro. I can't just walk away on him…_  
  
_I dragged Pavel out of the noose, and he says he’s going to take me as close to Polis as possible. Then I'll contact the Order and report on everything that has happened. The path to the legendary Theater lies through the catacombs. I've never been here before, and without my new friend I'd probably be completely lost. I hope he knows the way_  
  
_Pavel was captured in the vicinity of the Gardens, just like me. I wonder, what could he have been doing out there? What the hell were all of them doing out there? I think I'll hit him with that question - later. Right now we just need to stay alive and break out of the Reich borders._  
_Yes, the Reds are no angels, but what the Nazis are doing is regular horror. And I am happy to have an ally like Pavel. Even if he’s Red_  
  
Artyom seemed more reasonable in that part, she thought. Maybe there he had at least some minutes to think about everything. It hadn't been enough, obviously, but it was something. It also reminded her of the fact how precious her husband was, regardless of him being a rather crappy husband.    
  
_Our short visit to dead Moscow, the phantom of the past, is over. Pavel and I helped each other out again and are returning down to the Metro as real partners now. You can’t survive the wastelands any other way. But now ahead of us lies a populated station, The Theater. It’s very close to Polis. If Pavel manages to lead me through the Red Line guard posts, I'll be home in less than an hour._  
_Pavel needs some time to set everything up. The citizens of other stations need a permit to enter the Red Line. The state in permanent preparation for war readily sees a spy in any outsider. So I have some time to look around the Theater. This station is a real legend of the Metro - not unlike Polis, the difference being that while Polis gathered most of the surviving scientists, the Theater is considered to be the cultural capital of the Metro_  
  
_That was so stupid of me. I bought that talk of friendship, the stupid musketeer saying… Just you wait… I will get even. I wonder, though, why did Pavel go through the trouble of trapping me?_  
  
Wait. What? "Musketeer thing"? Anna's eyes went wide.

"Oh god!", she muttered under her breath.

Now she knew why he had been so determined to name their son "Porthos". A rather ridiculous name. She had been wondering ever since why he had chosen that particular name. She even had bought the book about these Musketeers! And now she felt so stupid, because she thought he had chosen it because of the personal traits of that character. Of what he wished him to be. But no. It simply was because of that man. Again. For fucks sake, what was it with that man?! Why did Artyom held him so high regardless of what he had done to him?

Her stomach began to violently spin. But she forced herself to read further.  
  
_I just have to catch up with Pavel and he'll tell me everything. We'll see how he is going to continue singing his songs of equality and brotherhood, of creating a just state for everyone… That traitor!_  
After that there weren't any more pages. The last one seemed rather chaotic. And it was short. Shorter than all the others. It was just one line.  
  
_I don't know anything anymore. Why am I still hurt?_  
  
That was it. He didn't mention her. Their marriage. Or their son. Or how that whole Red Square thing had ended. How he had rescued everyone. There was _nothing_.

On the beginning you could feel that writing in that diary was just so he could write down his adventures, sort his thoughts. But after he met that man? There was hardly anything left. It was frightening. Artyom had always found the time to write what was bothering him. But not until that incident at the Red Square. Well, except that one-liner, of course... One simple line and it held so much hurt inside, it left her feeling nearly choked. There was so much chaos inside her, everything went upside down. How could Artyom be so distant, so cold to her and regarding that man he couldn't even get a hold of what he was feeling? Her jealousy of that Red asshole boiled inside her, her throat burned like fire.  
She couldn't help herself she had to look over to Artyom. She was worried. Worried about their marriage. Worried about the hidden truth lying in that very sentence. _Why am I still hurt?_  

She was really worried about Artyom as a person. The moment someone stops something he had done before quite regularly, well, then there was clearly something wrong. She knew he had problems sleeping, she knew he was haunted by everything that happened, but almost everyone in here had those issues. They all lived in hell. They all had their problems dealing with their rough life.  
  
She put the diary aside, not sure what she should do about it. Or _if_ she should do something. Maybe talk to him? She growled. This whole situation was not something she was comfortable with. She never wanted to have a child. To marry someone. Not in this awful disaster humanity had created. Being overstrained was hardly a description that fitted her emotional state.  
Helplessly she shut her eyes, trying to force her many worries aside. She was drowning.

Oh, how much she wanted to be on her next mission again...

  
  
Artyom caressed his sleeping son on his lap. Porthos was really clingy, especially since Anna got back. He seemed to feel like he had to make sure that Artyom was fine. It was touching how much Porthos cared for his well-being, well, if it weren't at least a bit worrying.

[Just tell him that he shouldn't worry about you so much, I suppose that conversation will turn out just great]

Artyom shook his head slightly amused. He had to agree. He would never tell Porthos what he was supposed to feel. Never. Even if Anna felt outcasted or lesser loved. She told him that she felt as if she was always the bad parent in their relationship. And her tone had implicated that she blamed him for it.  
  
And then there was the thing with Anna and her wish to leave Exhibition. Moving to Polis, so their son would have access to better resources as well as education. She believed that his best shot would be if he would grow to be a Brahmin. Away from all the fighting, growing up to be better than a murderer. And, above all, not living in the northernmost inhabited station but rather in the very heart of the Metro. Well protected.  
  
Artyom understood her reasoning, but he still thought that traveling with Porthos was way too dangerous. The alliance with the southern stations Alekseyevskaya and Rizhskaya was fully cemented, so they were now one large unified station with a telephone connection and lighting in all the tunnels. They had a good stand against Hansa, the Station was well fed and in good condition in general. Every child could read, they had a rather big book storage from Polis. And of course there was their special tea that was extremely popular in the whole Metro.  
Well, in Polis...there were some great opportunities, yes. But also many dangers. Him angering the Brahmin's regarding the whole being their "choosen one" was definitely on top of his current list regarding the reasons against her wish.  
  
Artyom and Anna had been arguing for the past 10 days straight. Porthos was so upset about their situation, and Artyom was loaded with guilt. It wasn't easy pretending that everything's alright, especially if the one you try to protect was some kind of telepath. Porthos knew that they were mad at each other. Hell, he even felt their emotions during their arguments! A rather horrifying thought... Artyom wiped the upcoming tears hastily away. He got an odd look from their neighbor walking by, but he didn't mind as much as other men would. He hated this whole "men do not cry!"-attitude they all had grown up to.  
Expressing feelings wasn't anything bad and thus he won't allow to let it affect him or above that treat his son like that.  
  
The others here in Exhibition judged him for his way of raising his child. Their reasoning was that Porthos would grow up to be an unstable, whiney loser and not of any help for their community, being not "man enough" to be a guard someday. Or even hold a gun. It was ridiculous.  
His neighbor, which had gone in his tent by now, had once stated under the influence of alcohol that he was rather disgusted by Artyom and his "gay attitude". There had been many more ugly statements of his, the last one had been the accusation of him raising a "fucking sissy". ...Well, that evening at the bar had not been a kind one for his neighbor. His nose had been pretty damaged and now, even with the best medical efforts, it remained pretty deformed. But Artyom didn't feel bad.  
To tell the truth he was still angry. If that man would only glance in the wrong way to his son, Artyom would immediately do it again. And with great pleasure indeed. He was not a violent person, really. But he was in good physical shape and not a saint. And there were some things that could anger him enough to react like the killer he was accustomed to be by now.  
  
"...Artyom?"  
  
He looked to the side. Anna stood in the opening of their tent. Something in her eyes told him that this was not about their personal affairs but business. So he waited, patience was the key to nearly everything. Anna rolled her eyes because of the lack of an verbal answer. She hated that kind of attitude he had. Why were they married again?  
  
"My father has sent word. He needs us."  
  
Artyom's brows furrowed.  
  
"That is...worrysome."  
  
[Indeed.]  
  
Anna sighed.  
  
"I know you don't want to leave Porthos here, but father was pretty clear that he needs both of us."  
  
"Anna, there won't be any discussion about it. I won't go."  
  
"Artyom-"  
  
"I said no!"  
  
And that would be it. Anna looked rather frustrated but she seemed not too surprised with his reaction. He felt the urge to defend his statement.  
  
"Anna, I'm sorry, I really am, but I won't risk Porthos losing both of his parents all at once or him feeling lost and unwanted if we leave him here -and I will definately not put him in danger by taking him with us. He's only three years old!"  
  
She gave him a hurt look.  
  
"Don't you think I know?? I don't feel good with it, too, but father would never ask if it wouldn't be vital. You know there will be another peace conference..."  
  
[And here we go again...]  
  
Artyom closed his eyes and failed to suppress a shudder. He was rather pessimistic regarding this topic, hell, even Zhenya seemed to be. It wasn't like he had lost all hope. He still dreamt about the whole Metro at peace-thing, about everyone helping each other. He was still an idealist. But. Now that he has seen so much of the shit that all those people had done. Witnessed most of it first hand... Well, he wasn't too euphoric about the possibility of peace anymore. He now knew how small the chances were. How far their reality was from that dream. But... He looked down, studying the calm and smooth face of his son. He had at least to try, didn't he?

He had to try to achieve this future. Somehow. For his son. But...  
  
"...Anna, you know I'm the first to stand up and doing what is necessary to keep balance, to keep everything at ease. ...But it is Porthos' well-being we're talking about."  
  
"And that's exactly why we have to go! Don't you want to have peace because of Porthos? To secure his future and the future of every other child out there?"  
  
"Of course, but-"  
  
"And wouldn't you do everything you can to achieve that future?"  
  
"Yes, but-"  
  
"Then stop right now with your stupid excuses and _do_ something about it! Like you have always done since the very day we have met!"  
  
There was silence after that for many minutes. Anna knew how hard it was for Artyom, damn, it wasn't much different for herself. But even if it seemed as if they had a chance, they truly hadn't. Not as the daughter of the head of Polis Security and the fucking saviour of the Metro! They had to do their jobs. They had to.  
  
Artyom avoided eye contact. He had just eyes for their son. His gaze full of love and acceptance, it was too much to bear. It made her defenseless. How could she be in constant argument with such a caring and open-minded man?  
  
"Would you not do _everything_ for our son, Artyom?", she nearly whispered.  
  
Artyom's head went in her direction. The softness was gone. His expression went alarmingly blank.  
  
"I would slaughter every last human being in the Metro for him."  
  
She gulped but managed to nod.  
  
"If that's true then there won't be much that could happen to him, won't there? Besides, father has tasked his best men to come and accompany us back to Polis."  
  
"...How many?"  
  
Artyom rubbed his temple. He had a beginning headache just because of the thought of leaving Exhibition. Anna shifted uncomfortable in her seat, a rather unfitting gesture of her that made him feel sceptical.  
  
"Well, you know how he is..."  
  
He knew just then that he won't like her answer.  
  
[That behaviour is a bad sign.]  
  
"You mean an overprotecting, choleric and bossy father-in-law?"  
  
She ignored his comment. Mostly. Gifting him with only a slightly lifted eyebrow.  
  
"There will be 15 well trained Rangers coming over, the message got here pretty fast, but it will take at least 2 days until they reach our southern borders."  
  
15 Rangers. That was way too much. He shook his head slightly and sighed deeply.  
  
"Well, let's wait and see how many of them we'll have here by the time being..."  
  
He didn't voice his concern, but Anna knew easily enough what he was suggesting. But she didn't wish to argue again with him and so she stayed silent.  
  
"I'm exhausted from my shift, I'll go to bed."  
  
Artyom nodded.  
  
"I will stay here a while longer."  
  
Wordlessly she went past him and made herself ready to bed. It was uncomfortable, their growing silence. They haven't slept together for ages. Last time was when Porthos had been a newborn. And even then... When was the last time they had kissed? Or had sex? Well... There was that time Artyom had been drunk and somehow they had ended up having sex. Pretty platonic, without much care or affection. It had been quite rough and short. Exactly like their first time to be true.  
Well. And that's it. Nearly 2 years without any romantic interactions. They were only at the beginning of their life as a married couple, that couldn't be normal. It just couldn't.  
  
She was at the brink of tears. And Artyom? He just sat there in the chair and read calm as ever a book about _communism_ , her thoughts spat that word out as if it was equally disgusting as those ass fuckers who had lived in Alekseyevskaya for a short time. Before they had been kicked out for their disgusting "hobby" -her stomach turmoiled in protest to the pictures she had in her mind...

One would think that she should be lucky. She had a pretty faced husband and a really kind and smart child... She sniffed as silent as she could and turned her back to that perfect looking picture of the endearing father reading his book and caressing his son who was slightly snoring in his little blanket and had one little hand quite possessively clinging to his shirt.

How was she supposed to fit in there? Just how? Pained she shut her eyes with all the willpower she had. She needed rest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About deciding what's best for Porthos and the beginning of a new life.

Porthos was nervous. His mother and his daddy had told him that they had work to do and that they had to leave. Both of them. They explained to him, both minds loaded with worries, that they had to leave him here in Exhibition, because they wanted him to be safe.

He had cried back then, yelling at them in a manner that wasn't likely for a 3 year old. He knew that. But he couldn't care less. His daddy had told him that he was fine just the way he was and he believed him. It was why it had hurt the most, the moment his daddy had agreed with his mother.

  
"Daddy, you won't leave me. You promised!"  
  
"Honey..."  
  
His daddy caressed his shoulder helplessly.  
  
"No! You promised!"  
  
He could tell that Artyom was torn apart. But he was so scared. There was no way that he would stay back here!  
  
"Look, Sukhoi will protect you, he-"  
  
"No. I'll come with you!"  
  
"Porthos, please."  
  
Stubbornly the child held his head high. He never had been one to argue with his parents. Never. But he wouldn't back off.  
  
"Artyom, maybe-"  
  
"You can't be serious!"  
  
Anna shrugged.  
  
"No place is completely safe, you know. Maybe it is the right thing after all."  
  
"Please, daddy! I promise I will behave myself!"  
  
His daddy smiled at that.  
  
"You always do."  
  
He sighed. Looking somewhat older than before. Exhausted.  
  
"Honey, you are such a smart child, far above the average. But you don't know what you're asking for. Believe me. There... There are living nightmares in these tunnels. Many monsters. And they're not like Shura. Not at all."  
  
He shuddered with the reminder of his many encounters with demons. Those flying assholes... Or this monstrous mutant mother bear. Or this gibberish life form in D6. Or those spiders with their soft bellies or those shrimps. And the librarians, all in all maybe the creepiest creatures of them all.   
  
"I know that there 're monsters, daddy. I've seen many of them."  
  
Puzzled his daddy blinked. He exchanged a rather strange look with mother. Suddenly Porthos felt so unsure of how to proceed. He knew that his mother didn't like the idea of him being different. That's exactly why he wasn't comfortable in her presence. Ever.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
He couldn't find any more words. Suddenly he felt like he had said something bad. His daddy immediately softened.  
  
"Don't be afraid, honey. You know I'll never judge you."  
  
He offered his arms and Porthos accepted his invitation eagerly. He was embraced with warmth. It felt good and left him feeling relaxed.  
  
"I think I know the answer already, Porthos. You don't have to speak if you don't want to."  
  
Porthos nodded, but hesitantly he began describing.  
  
"I... I can see pictures in my head. Sometimes I can see what you dream. I can see the world above. All wild. And scary. I can hear screams. And scratchy sounds... Sometimes I see dead people. Monsters eating them..."  
  
His mother exhaled sharply, but his daddy wasn't as shocked as he thought he would. But, well, he had known. His daddy had always known.  
  
"God, Porthos. I'm... I'm so sorry."  
  
His mother came closer, but she stopped before them, unsure. Porthos looked up. He knew of her insecurities. Knew of her wish to be closer to him. Closer to his daddy, but he knew that this wish wouldn't come true.

And with this he held his arms high and hugged his mother carefully. He knew that it was just the heat of the moment, of her being overwhelmed by her guilt. That moment would be gone pretty fast and then she would again look at him like he was alien to her.  
  
"Well..."  
  
His mother stiffened in their hug, so he put some distance between them, deciding to sit back on his daddy's lap. He loved doing that. Just being near him was so calming.

With daddy he had not to worry about being too much, about being different. With daddy was everything easy. And that was why he would leave too. Grandpa Sukhoi was nice, yes, but he was so afraid, too. So nervous. And he observed Porthos constantly, never feeling at ease. It was exhausting.  
  
"Daddy, mommy, I know you are afraid that I could get hurt on this trip. I know you mean best with your wish of me staying here, but I won't like it here..."  
  
His daddy pulled him slightly closer. Porthos leaned in, getting rather sleepy.  
  
"Porthos, I won't like it either. But sometimes the way you don't like is the best possible option. Sometimes it is about more than what you want, sometimes duty has to come first."  
  
"...I'd rather die than be left alone."  
  
He was beginning to drift into sleep. He felt the darkness clouding his heavy mind. Concentrating so much on his parents state of mind had been so extremely exhausting...  
  
Artyom shivered slightly. The desperation his son felt left him feeling like shit. Unsure about nearly everything he looked up to Anna. His wife now sat heavily on their desk, looking as clueless as he felt.  
  
"...We'll break his heart if we leave him alone."  
  
"He won't be alone. Sukhoi will be there for him. He's only a child, he will adjust to...everything. Or do you want to tell me that your stepfather is the wrong man to entrust with our son?"  
  
"That is not the case, Anna. You know it isn't."  
  
He sighed, his head nearly felt like it would explode in any minute. Why was Anna now against the idea of bringing Porthos along? Just to get another argument? What was it with that woman?  
  
"You know Porthos is special. At least by now you should've figured that out."  
  
"I know I don't know him as good as you, thank you for reminding me!"  
  
Artyom growled deeply.  
  
"Don't make this entirely conversation about you feeling outcasted. We're speaking about putting our son in danger and we don't have time right now for any other topic, as we're about to leave tomorrow morning."  
  
She suppressed the upcoming anger and inhaled. _Concentrate_ , she reminded herself, determined to stay on course.  
  
"Okay. What now? You think that taking him with us is a good idea now?"  
  
"Not a good one. But maybe it is the right one..."  
  
He laughed slightly.  
  
"Yeah, I know it sounds stupid. But... He is right. I promised him."  
  
"...And you're okay with the possibility that our son will get killed by wandering with us through those damned tunnels??"  
  
"Of course not, I'm far from that! But Anna, he really isn't some normal child. There is more at stake than just a broken promise. His questionable heritage is not something he takes lightly. And to be fair: you haven't been quite the supportive type regarding that matter. None in this station had been."  
  
She scoffed frustrated.  
  
"Yeah, I know I fucked up! You're of course perfect!"  
  
Artyom looked down. Why was she always accusing him of being perfect? It hurt. Pretty bad actually. What was so wrong with him doing everything he could possibly do to make his son feel good in his skin? Why was she always so easily aggravated?  
  
"Anna, you know I'm far from perfect. You of all people should know that... But I think I'd rather risk my son getting in danger with the possibility of me rescuing him than losing him emotionally because I've let him down. He isn't like a normal 3 year old. He knows what is awaiting him. He knows what could happen. He has seen it in our dreams, for god's sake! I can't speak for yours, but I can sincerely tell that my dreams are far from being subtle about the dangers lingering in the Metro..."  
  
She crossed her arms, but her face wasn't as hard as before. Artyom saw how her mind was calculating everything. Her eyes sharp and intelligent as ever. She was a remarkable woman.  
  
"...Do you really think that this is a good idea?"  
  
"Anna, I honestly don't know. How could I? God, I'm as scared as you are! But... He wants to be with us. And I can't blame him. The whole Metro is dangerous. In every second it could be over. _...So why tell him that he should_ _stay safe if it is something he could never fulfill?_ "  
  
In the end Artyom nearly whispered. And after his words were out silence crept over them.

 

 

 

  
"Daddy, why is this tunnel so bright with lights and the ones you always walked in your dreams were so dark?"  
  
Artyom smiled slightly.  
  
"Because these tunnels here are pretty good secured by now."  
  
"It is because of our neighbours, right?"

Artyom nodded. 

"We'll reach Alekseyevskaya in less than 2 hours, I suppose."  
  
"You suppose?"  
  
"Well, Porthos, nothing is certain in the Metro, especially time. An old friend of mine believed that with us living underground the old concept of measuring time is long past outdated."  
  
One of the Rangers that accompanied them gave him a strange look, but Artyom wasn't bothered.  
  
"That sounds strange, daddy..."  
  
Artyom chuckled.  
  
"Believe me, at first I was as confused as you."  
  
"And now you're not."  
  
It was more of a statement than being a question. His son's telepathic abilities sure helped somehow. Maybe it would become handy to have that option if danger occurs. Maybe Porthos will be warned even before Artyom could instruct him to be in the first place.  
  
"...You think me being...well, me could be helpful?"  
  
Artyom snickered.  
  
"You're always helpful, honey."  
  
He glanced sideways to Anna. She wore a pretty sour look and he had no idea what could've been the reason for it. Maybe it was again her being angry at herself or him. Maybe she just wasn't happy with the whole situation and was brooding about how she would kick her father's ass as soon as they would reach Polis. And maybe she was just worried about their lovely trip to Polis.

After all there had been only 14 Rangers reaching their destination...  
The One had died because a nosalis had torn his throat open. Porthos had been shivering because of the blunt explanation, but Artyom hadn't said anything. After all, it wouldn't help his son if they all held back information.  
It was a dangerous journey and death was nearly everywhere. And as much as he loved Sukhoi for taking him in, he surely won't raise Porthos like he himself had been raised. All the bad stuff had been hidden from him for as long as possible for Sukhoi and now Artyom had so much trouble accepting the reality as it was.  
  
Porthos looked back.  
  
"Daddy, Shura is over there... She didn't leave like you had instructed her to do."  
  
Artyom growled frustrated. He had tried to send the little Watcher back to Exhibition 4 times already. Sukhoi had agreed more or less to care for her, but just because Porthos had told him that he wouldn't talk to him ever again if he didn't.Well. They were way too far to bring her back and restrain her to stay with Sukhoi. It seemed like Sukhoi had luck. 

Frowning Artyom registered that the Watcher struggled to keep up to them. Her wound wasn't healed yet, so traveling through the tunnels wasn't something he would advise. He sighed and came to a halt. Adjusting the bag made of a bullet proof vest that held Porthos on him, he kneeled down. After sniffing carefully on his palm Shura let herself get carried. It wasn't comfortable for neither of them, but he would work out a solution within their next break. He had one spare shirt which could come in handy for his little transportation problem.  
  
He wasn't so sure if bringing Shura with them was a smart choice, to be honest. But he had allowed Porthos to grew close to her. Now there was no way back. And he knew by now that he had started to like that ugly little Watcher. She had proved herself numerous times to be extremely loyal and kind of over-protective regarding Porthos. And maybe, just maybe, she would proof herself to be helpful out there. Her instincts should be better than theirs after all.  
  
"Really, Artyom? You want this thing to accompany us?"  
  
He shrugged. Porthos answered on his behalf.  
  
"Shura is family, mother."  
  
Artyom scratched his neck.  
  
"Well, you heard it."  
  
"Unbelievable!"  
  
With that frustrated cry she walked faster and left them in the middle of those way too many Rangers. Artyom got goosebumps all over. He hated being stuck in this unhealthy relationship.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Artyom having a moment of understanding. And Artyom losing his control about something he considered to be entirely private.

Anna sighed heavily. Her leg hurt like hell, but she wouldn't complain. Her father had negotiated their travel with Hansa and with it they had been heading west of Exhibition, passing through Prospect Mira, Nowoslobodskaja, Belorusskaja, Krasnopresnenskaja and now they were at Kiewskaja for the night. Because of that privilege their trip had been surprisingly comfortable and pretty fast, a rare and rather strange thing to happen, so she really wanted to stay low with thinking of all that could possibly go wrong.

Passing through Hansa stations with that ease had been something she never could have imagined. She didn‘t trust that peace, she was accustomed to constant uprising in all kind of ways, so it was somehow logical that she couldn‘t find any comfort in peaceful situations. In fact she gained quite the opposite effect, which told her just how fucked up she was.

After everything with the Reds regarding D6 the Order and Hansa had become pretty close allies. The first soldiers of Hansa had already access to D6 2 years ago and some recruits had proven themselves to be reliable and thus there were some that already held a good rank among the Rangers.

It was way too early in her opinion, but she knew with them being so few, the amount of time until you could call yourself a Ranger of the Order had to be minimized as much as possible. Otherwise they wouldn't stand a chance to hold their position in the Metro. These hard times forced her father to hard choices and she understood. But she was still wary of those many new faces, it was hard to get used to them.

So many good men had died. Sometimes she saw them in her dreams. Sometimes she had to force herself to reason, because she thought for some seconds that she really heard their voices from much deeper places of the tunnels, through some vents. It was creepy and got under her nerves every fucking time. But she knew that those voices were made up by a mind that had been awake far too long. She knew because there were no such thing as ghosts! It was as simple as that,...wasn‘t it?

She glanced over to where Artyom and her son sat on their blanket. Artyom read a book and Porthos was already sleeping, he was even more sleepy than before. The journey exhausted him to extends she hadn't thought being possible. He already had been a sleepyhead. But now he was sleeping up to 15 hours per day minimum, sometimes he was awake for only 3 to 5 hours.

It was scary. But somehow her son was gravely affected by those many strangers they met with every station they passed. And he seemed to know exactly who was well-meaning towards them and who wasn‘t. With this they had been able to avoid guards that would have made their trip uncomfortable, well, at least if what Artyom told them was true. He was the only one to understand the true nature of Porthos instincts. It scared her to death. Because, didn't that meant that Artyom himself was somehow more influenced by those Dark Ones than she had initially thought?

She shivered. Maybe...maybe she was wrong and supernatural things like ghosts or magic existed? The Dark Ones for example. With their creepy powers. With them being...sentinel beings? But if she acknowledged them for what they seemed to be, then those moving shadows she had seen on her journeys, those moans echoing in the abandoned tunnels and the heavy steps she had heard without anyone in sight.

Well, then that meant that all this crap hadn't been her imagination… She felt sick. And for the first time in forever she felt overwhelmed by fear. The last time she had been like that was with her being 8 year old sitting by her dying mother coughing blood and vile-smelling puke until her face had turned blue and her stuttered breaths had finally stopped.

Goosebumps crept over her skin. For some reason she felt like she had been betrayed by Artyom. All she had wanted was to do what she had thought she _had_ to do. As a woman. As the daughter of her father. To give him grandchildren and make him proud. She already knew as a very young girl that she wasn‘t made for something like managing a family. That wasn‘t her. She knew it. But she just had to give her father something back after so much he already gave her. He raised her all alone and he did his best. Not perfect, but just right. And she loved him for that.

It wasn‘t fair that she had hurt him in the past just by being herself. He had been questioned a hundred times by his peers why his daughter hadn't already been married with a capable man since she had turned 16. Not being in any relationship at that age was troublesome as a woman in the Metro, but even before the missiles and all that shit happening, a woman had to play her role. There were expectations to be met. -Expectations she had efficiently ignored for as long as possible.

She knew that her father had been worried for her. If he died, who would take care of her? He wanted her to have someone for the very real possibility that he would leave this world.

Now she was married and she was sure that her father wasn't worried anymore for her safety that much. But still. He didn't approve of their match. And she wasn't happy. Artyom neither. And their son suffered because of that too. None was truly happy with their past decision she realised with remorse.

Maybe it was time to negotiate. Maybe Artyom and her should start to be honest with each other. Maybe they should end this farce. Maybe-

"Anna, you're still up?"

Artyom looked surprised. Well, he had been too occupied with reading his new book. He had bought it from a merchant that had been traveling with them for a little while. His name had been John or something similar. A foreigner from America. His Russian had been really bad but for some reason Artyom had managed to talk with him in English. She hadn‘t been able to understand much of their conversation, but she heard enough to know that Artyom wasn't bad in speaking.

She hadn't known that Artyom knew other languages at all. She had found out that he not only could speak English, he also understood bits of Spanish and also German to her uttermost surprise. Hell, he even understood _Latin_ to an extend.

How did he do that? Being so well-read with all this crap happening around them? She tried to imagine him as a child and before she could stop herself she just had to ask.

"I wonder, have you always been a bookworm?“

Nothing in his facial expression seemed odd. He wasn‘t confused about her mindless question and she wondered why she found that disturbing.

"...Well, yes? I've been reading books since I‘m 4 years old.“

"You could already read at the age of 4?“

He shrugged helplessly. It was typical for him to downplay his achievements. And even more so that he didn‘t add anything further to the conversation. But she didn‘t want to end talking to another, so she continued.

"...It‘s hard to imagine you as a child, already being gloomy and cryptic.“

"Hey, I‘m not cryptic!“

Amused he put aside his book instead of holding it closely before his face just so she could barely see his eyes. Sometimes she got the feeling that he used his hobby mostly as an excuse so that he wouldn‘t have to deal with her.

"Khan is the mystical wise man possessing all kinds of the strangest knowledge, not me.“

Anna thought about it for a moment before answering.

"In my opinion you are very much alike, you two.“

Artyom shivered. Immediately he had Khans voice in his head, telling him something about being a wolf surrounded by sheep and Artyom being a wolf pup… This idiom indicated that Khan had thought similar as Anna regarding their likeness. But it made him feel all kinds of stuff. Stuff he would rather put aside again, deep down in his mind and not look at it ever again.

Because Khan _had left_. Like they always do. _Everyone_ left.

"Artyom?“

Anna's voice was full of uncertainty, which made him flinch like she had punched him in the gut. Anna's eyes were unbearable at the moment. Blue. So very blue… „ _Whoa! That's the way to do it, bro! Just like the three Musketeers, eh? - if there were two of them.“_ Artyom shivered. And it didn‘t help to close his eyes and try to concentrate on his uneven breathing, because he knew how Anna looked at him. He hated to be pitied or looked at as if he were a maniac. Especially by the woman with those stunning eyes that reminded him of even greater pain lingering inside of him. Eager to be let loose. „ _Red Line officer does not steal from corpses - but you're Spartan. Go ahead, hah!“_

Immediately he felt bile rising up his throat, burning like fire. He gulped, trying desperately to not loose his battle against his own body. But he felt that he was about to lose before it even started.

Summoning the pitiful amount of dignity he possessed he stood up and excused himself hastily, almost running out of the tent they had been provided with, ignoring Anna calling him sorrowful.

 

There weren‘t many people outside, thankfully most of them were already sleeping. So maybe he was lucky enough that none would hear him panting desperately for air and see him failing to hold his composure. Sniffing he rubbed over his teary face, feeling humiliated. He hated losing control like that. He wasn‘t ashamed of caring, of his feelings or of crying. But _this_? This was more than he could stand. It was pathetic. Those trigger points were so dreadfully unpredictable.

Every time he thought he was back in control and it couldn‘t surprise him anymore, the next time hit him even harder than the one before.

What will Anna think of him now? She never witnessed one of his episodes, he had always managed somehow to excuse himself _before_ he started to act too weird to be able to leave without attracting attention. Well...

Until now.

Stumbling he let his back hit the hard stone of a wall, far enough from any witnesses he hoped. But it wasn‘t like he could do much about it, he already felt the unwanted emotions sputtering to the surface like a volcano that started erupting after a long phase of trembling magma under a thin layer of crust.

He could try to fight more against it. He could… He could at least try. But he didn‘t want to. He tried it already so many times and it never had any effect. He was so damn tired of this shit and he hated his easy resign. It was the decision of the infirm. „ _Whoah! So, how are you, chuvak? All right? ...Oh, you're tough, huh? No wonder they made you a Ranger.“_

Hearing this voice was stomach-churning. He turned to the side, already on his knees without knowing when he had slided along the wall to the ground. And then he puked as sick as a dog. And all the while he heard Pavel. Calling him strong. Making statements that let him believe that he gave a shit. That he truly cared. „ _You're OK? Hurry, we're almost there!“_

Helplessly leaning against the cold stone at his back Artyom closed his eyes nauseated by the disgusting taste in his mouth. „ _Look, Artyom! Don't lose your head in here, you understand me?“_

Artyom snickered unhumorous.

„Too late...“

 

With a cynical smile he struggled to his feet. He was pretty sure he had been gone for long enough that he could sneak back in their tent and curling up next to his son without waking Anna up. She was a practical woman and wouldn't waste her time with waiting for him too long, not with their mission to travel to Polis tomorrow bright and early.

He wasn't ready to talk to her. Hell, he knew it was childish, but he really hoped that there wouldn't be too much of situations where she would have time to even look at him. Or think about what she had witnessed.

An familiar whine got his attention. There in the dark he could see two yellow eyes approaching him. He sighed.

"Hey, my girl. What's up?"

She kinda purred and pressed her face against his outstretched palm, rubbing smoothly against his skin for reassurance. And for once the upcoming small smile was honest.

"Ok, I understand. I'm sorry I made you worry 'bout me. I'm fine now."

He patted her head and headed straight back. The little Watcher stayed as close to him as possible making it somehow awkward to walk, with her brushing against his legs ever so slightly, being very careful not to disturb him too much. He couldn't help but to caress this little sweetheart.

"Who would 've thought that you could be such a cutie?"

Together they entered the tent, being as silent as they could while making themselves comfortable beside the small space next to the sleeping child. As soon as Artyom had lain down he was proved wrong with his assumption that his son had been sleeping. Porthos immediately came closer and hugged him as firmly as he could.

No words were needed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the group reach Polis, Porthos meets his other grandfather and Pavel finally appears!

Reaching Polis had been like a dream for Artyom. He couldn‘t remember much of passing the gate or anything particular. Only as they stood in Miller‘s office, right before his desk, Artyom started to hear sounds properly again and seeing things not in a blurr, but as clear as day.  
And for the first time since his psychic episode he lost the fear of being confronted by Anna.  
She wouldn‘t dare to speak about it now, not in front of her father, who already tried to find anything that would prove that Artyom was unworthy of her.

Miller sat in his wheelchair and looked rather pale and kinda skinny compared to the last time they‘ve seen each other. To be fair, the man had stopped being a Ranger on duty since the war of D6 and without the everyday workout it was understandable. And Artyom was pretty sure that Miller must be in constant pain. His moveless legs hurt, he sure as hell had to deal with decubitus. Mostly on his sacral bone he guessed.  
With that the idiom „pain in the ass“ got an entirely new meaning regarding his superior.

Artyom knew a little bit about the medical care of decubitus, they had an old lady in Exhibition who had been way too old and weak to walk, so she had stayed in bed for her last months of life. Her skin had become so fragile, it had ripped open by the slightest touch, so she got those bedsore wounds pretty much everywhere. The last one, a rather deep wound that almost reached the bone structure been behind her ear!  
He would‘ve never guessed before that one could get a decubitus there.

“Artyom.“

“Miller.“

Acknowledging each other they concentrated their attention on the smallest of this family meeting.  
Porthos was nervous and intimated by this grumpy old man. He could feel the disappointment that man had for his father and it irritated him. Why was his grandfather not pleased with his daddy?  
Artyom could tell what was bothering his son the moment he looked at him, so he gave his best not to show much of his own uneasiness. He didn‘t want to make it even more complicated for his son to bond with the grandfather he now saw for the first time since he was born.

“So,...you‘re Porthos.“

“...Right. And you must be Miller. The father of my mother.“

Miller watched his grandson in awe. Anna had told him before in one of her short visits to report from a mission that her son was...special. But up until now he had thought that it was that kind of “special“ that all newly parents would describe their offspring. Well, now he knew how wrong that assumption had been.

“Anna, how old is he again?“

“Nearly 4 years old.“

“That‘s extraordinary!“

Miller turned to Porthos again.

“You‘re quite eloquent for your age, young man.“

“I‘m informed that I‘m not that different from my daddy when he was at my age, sir.“

Miller lifted an eyebrow at that statement, but didn‘t ask any further. Anna meanwhile felt a slight sting in her chest. Her son was really dry with her father. Something was odd here, but she wouldn‘t dare to start their reunion with a discussion about courtesy.  
The old man coughed slightly,  another sign that he wasn‘t in good shape. He wheeled to the door.

“I would have preferred it if you could have at least some time to rest, but to be honest, the negotiations already started.“

Anna and Artyom exchanged a surprised look.

“But, father, it should have been at least several more days until the first meetings! I don‘t understand...“

“Well, neither of us do. But fact is that the Reds arrived here in Polis nearly a week ago, their goal is to come to good terms with us and Hansa before the Nazis do. They would never say that aloud but I bet they‘re up shit creek to seek our alliance in this haste!“

Anna looked to her husband. She immediately knew because of his brooding face that he would add something to their conversation.

“...This method is rather strange for Reds. I guess you‘re right, Miller, they‘re hiding something. If they think that they have to hurry, then there is something not quite right.“

Anna shrugged.

“Maybe this is some after-effect of them losing the war for D6?“

Miller shook his head slightly bemused.

“Then why wait 3 years? ...No. That can‘t be the reason.“

Artyom couldn't fight his hope growing inside him, regardless of how unwilling he was to give in to it.

“...Maybe they came to the conclusion that they need to compromise?“

Miller fell in broad laughter right after Artyom‘s statement. It had a taunting touch to it and Porthos didn‘t miss that slight touch to his uttermost discomfort. His little hope of Porthos gaining something like a new loved one, a new family member he could rely on was shrinking rapidly.

“Jesus Christ, Artyom, don‘t tell me you really think that that could be a possibility?? Reds are way too proud and stupid for that! Those fuckers just love their ideology way too much to give a damn about the real shit.“

Artyom‘s grip around Porthos got firmer.

“Not every Red is a moron, Miller. It is dangerous to lump together everyone just because of past mistakes.“

Miller scoffed.

“You‘re emotionally compromised, boy.“

Artyom suppressed his anger with every cell in his body, determined to not let his emotions affect his son.

[This is a foredoomed mission, my friend.]

Artyom sighed silently, with nothing escaping outwards. He could wore a mask of disinterest if he pleased. He had himself better in control, at least if you ignore the psychic episodes...

The young Ranger had enough. He ignored Anna‘s and Miller‘s ongoing conversation about the conferences so far. He was too occupied with not dealing with his own mind. Zhenya always put one‘s oar in, trying to cheer him up. Trying to distract him.

It took Miller 5 more minutes until he noticed the little Watcher that had been damn good at hiding behind Artyom, always managing to stay right out of sight. A talent that had allowed her to be here in the first place. Well, and Artyom's status as a „hero“ helped with it in the more precarious situations they had with Hansa guards. But there hadn‘t been much of those confrontations, to his surprise.  
And somehow he knew that this was not entirely on the ability of Shura to stay low. And it would definitely explain Porthos‘ constant exhaustion.

Anna had a hard time explaining to her father exactly why they had brought one of those monsters directly into Polis. Artyom interrupted Miller‘s hateful words before they could do any harm.

„Shura is the companion of Porthos and if you only have the slightest wish of coming to terms with your grandchild you should just accept it. There‘re at least 2 Rangers I know of that have little beasts as pets themselves, so get over it.“

Miller looked kinda hurt, but he accepted his advice astonishingly. Maybe because he cared more for his role as a grandparent then Artyom had initially expected him to be. Well, how would he know? They weren‘t exactly friends. Miller didn‘t talk much about private matters in general. He did not work, he _was_ his work.

[Like father like daughter, it seems...]

Artyom had to bite hard into his cheek to stop himself from answering aloud. Zhenya snickered while Artyom rested his head slightly against his sons to settle, inhaling his sweet scent and allowing himself to savor the warmth it caused.

As long as he had Porthos, he wouldn‘t lose his sanity, that was for sure. His son was his anchor in this shithole of a life.

 

 

 

Peacefully sitting on the ground with Porthos and Shura sleeping beside him he glanced over to Anna talking with some of their comrades. She was in her element, that was for sure. He was also interested in hearing their stories, in exchanging one‘s missions. But he hadn‘t accompanied in any and he wasn‘t about to leave Porthos just so he could stand over there and hear everything more properly.

Shura purred in her sleep and rolled on her back with bent legs. He smiled slightly. It looked adorable. Crawling the little creature he reread the page from his book. He had been tired enough that he had read the page without proceeding any of it‘s content.

Miller had kept them occupied far into the night, they only had less than 3 hours sleep before they had to be in Miller‘s office again. Discussing the terms they thought necessary to make an alliance possible. And Rusakov and Miller didn‘t agree on much to be honest. Both were intimidating personalities, both accustomed to be followed.

It was exhausting to maneuver their discussions back on track. Every fucking time they drift off and started to insult each other he had to intervene.

Sighing he leaned back. At least now they had some hours of freedom before it probably started all over again.

“Hey, my new comrades!“

In an instant Artyom‘s blood run cold and he broke out a cold sweat. His heart was in his mouth, not being able to comprehend a single thought.

Anna and the Rangers visibly stiffened by the appearance of the group of Red Soldiers. But Artyom had no eyes for those strangers. Just Pavel. He stood there, barely 30 feet away from him, looking just like he did back then. Well, he had a new scar on his face, a thin one, right under the big one. And he had dark circles under his eyes, revealing so much to Artyom. More than any other person would presumably get from it.

He saw everything. And nothing. Both at the same time. It was utterly confusing how his body and mind reacted. He felt ill, his heart still in a race. And his stomach felt queasy, kinda like he had to puke but still...somehow different compared to the feeling he got right before the actual puking.

“What do you want, Major?“

Anna folded her arms defensively. She had hoped that this particular specimen had left this world for good.

“Whoa, OK, we just wanted to say hello and-“

Pavel stumbled. His bright blue eyes locked with his. Artyom found it hard to remind himself to breathe. But his lungs hurt. Everything hurt _so much_ and still he felt relieved. He was so glad Pavel made it back to the Metro! All the time he had not dared to actually hope to see him ever again, to find out about his well-being.

“...Nu, shto-… (Well, what-...) Fuck, Artyomich, I-I‘m… I don‘t...“

He sighed. Scratching his neck nervously, painfully aware of the strange glares he got from his companions. For a second he seemed to be in conflict with himself.

"Blin, _‘don‘t care_!“

With that muttering he suddenly moved forward, almost crushing to the ground right before Artyom, his knees hitting the hard stone with an ugly sound, but he didn‘t even flinch and before Artyom could say knife he was hold in a stiff hug. Pavel motioned quickly away but remained kneeling barely a couple of inches from Artyom, smiling charismatic and kinda pathetic at the same time.

All in all it was a really awkward situation. But it was so authentic, it was a strong flickering of their presumed dead friendship. It had been awkwardly intense and with a kinda unlogical and unhealthy interdependence.

He loved every inch of that stupid bond they shared. Regardless of all the shit that happened. Artyom couldn‘t pretend like he hated that man. He had been furious, yes. And he was still hurt, mad and utterly disappointed.

But he couldn‘t help the urge to smile, he hold himself back as much as he could. If he wouldn‘t restrain himself at least to an extent, he would fling his arms around Pavel‘s neck like the helpless idiot he certainly was.

At least he managed to downplay his turmoiling feelings a little bit.

“Artyomich...“

Artyom shivered slightly. It was torture to hear his voice. He had longed to hear it for so long, he had damned Pavel for it. And now he was helpless. He would gain his focus back, he knew. As soon as the turmoil in his gut had settled he would find reason again. Well. Hopefully...

Shrugging he tried to wear a more fitting facial expression. One of a little more distance. Of professionalism.

“Well… What _do_ you want, Pavel?“

Oh god, why did his question sound so odd? Blood surged to his face. Pavel seemed to feel similar. He scratched his neck again, laughing nervously.

“Yo-moyo... We‘re here for the same reasons. Making...peace.“

Pavel had difficulties saying that last word and it made Artyom's stomach twist painfully. Pavel was a good liar but for some reasons this little pause, the slightly different nuance in his voice. Artyom knew that he was not saying everything. Maybe he wasn‘t lying entirely, but there was more with that reason then what meets the eye. Miller was right. Something was definitely odd and his heart ached with that realisation.

Again on different sides. It will happen all over again… He gulped. His body felt heavy. His ears whooshed unpleasantly.

“Daddy, is this your best friend you‘ve dre…-ehm, _talked_ about?“

And in this moment Artyom thanked his son for enough insight to not say “dreamed“ like he sure as hell had intended to at the beginning. But he managed to change it. Artyom sighed, trying to get rid of some of his tension.

„Yes, honey. This is Pavel.“

Pavel blinked, first seconds passed by without anyone saying a word. Pavel studied the little boy next to Artyom. He hadn‘t noticed him before. Dark little locks, bright green eyes. His fathers son indeed, he thought and he couldn‘t help the smile escaping his lips, even while he felt an ache he wouldn‘t dare to name.

„TAk sebe (So-so), as I see it, I‘m at a disadvantage here.“

Porthos stood up and held his hand to Pavel. He took it, with a confused look on his face.

„I‘m Porthos, it‘s nice to finally meet you.“

Pavel‘s eyes went wide. His heart skipped a beat.  
  
„You...“

He was speechless.

-„Major, we need to report to General Moskvin…“

„Y-yeah, right.“

He looked again at Porthos, then at Artyom. It was a strange glare Artyom got from Pavel, it made him shiver and feel hot and cold at the same time. And then Artyom felt a firm clap on his shoulder that somehow didn‘t feel entirely right. It was too distant. Too much space between them.

„Do vstrEchi (See you soon),... _D'Artagnan_.“

He stood up and turned. Leaving Artyom and his son behind on the ground. There lingered a promise in those small words. A promise that felt so wrong and right all alike.

Porthos leaned himself on his father, trying to ease the turmoil inside him. Not sure what he should think about this Pavel. But somehow he liked him and he feared for the wrath he sensed to his left. His mother looking at that strange man leaving like she was about to smash him to pieces.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna behaving more feminine than Artyom can handle. Him meeting someone he didn't expect to see again and strangely starting to open up -at least a little bit... And some embarrassing story telling right within earshot of none other than Pavel.

The talks went on for ages and Artyom found himself getting more and more annoyed. Hansa had proved themselves to be extremely stubborn. Well, it shouldn’t surprise him after his experiences with them back in Paveletskaya -and that was just one example. But it was a fitting one, regarding the fact that he had spotted a face in the crowd he knew from this very station, just from the early beginnings of his journey to Polis.

As soon as there was a little break he hurried over to the man. He was immediately recognized.

“Oh my, I‘ve never thought I would ever see you again!“

Artyom shrugged.

“Me too.“

The other man didn‘t seem to hold a grudge because Artyom had escaped their one year term of shovelling manure on his own and kinda left him there. It was odd. Wouldn‘t a sane man be angry about that? He couldn‘t tell what was on Mark’s mind. It was unnerving. And Mark seemed to be at a loss of words, too. It started to get awkward.

Anna came over and seemed to be in a disturbingly good mood. Only God knew why.

“The negotiations are really dry ones, don‘t you think?“

Those words seemed to be directed towards both of them. Mark shrugged slightly.

“Well, didn‘t expect anything different. Politics just happen to be like that.“

Anna sighed.

“Yeah, it‘s a pity. I prefer a plain battlefield. At least there I don‘t have to be wary of what to say to whom just so I won‘t offend anyone. It‘s utterly devastating!“

Mark laughed.

“Lady, you‘re one of a kind!”

Anna smiled flattered and fidgeted on her sleeve. Artyom found that reaction pretty strange.

[Yeah, well, she _is_ a woman. She just doesn‘t behave that way most of the time, I suppose.]

Artyom rolled his eyes at Zhen‘s comment.

“Thanks, I guess. I‘m Anna by the way.“

“Mark. It‘s a pleasure.“

After that exchange Anna glanced curious to Artyom.

“How comes that you two seem to know each other?“

Artyom kept silent. He wasn‘t exactly in a talkative mood. Or, to be more precise: not any more. Mark answered instead, without registering the turmoil of his acquaintance.

“The last time we saw each other we hadn‘t been exactly in a good shape, to say the least...“

That got Anna‘s full interest. And as if this whole conversation wasn‘t already enough of a nuisance Artyom saw Pavel standing only a few feet away from them at the bar. Last time he had seen him, like 3 minutes ago, he had been at the other end of the room talking with some Reds about whatsoever. How the fuck had he moved so fast without Artyom noticing it right away?

Anna leaned closer to Artyom and after he didn‘t shy away immediately she grabbed his arm. It felt really strange. Never before had she done one of those kind of things. Physical statements of social entanglements were not his thing. And it wasn’t her way of doing things. At least he had thought that until now, but maybe she had held herself back because she knew of his distaste?

With a strange high pitch in her voice, a bit with a flirtatious touch, she turned to Mark.

“Not in good shape? What do you mean?“

Artyom saw out of the corner of his eye that Pavel observed them. He did so pretty discreetly but Artyom knew it nevertheless.

[That‘s because you‘re constantly glancing over to him, too, genius.]

“Well… We lost a bet and were sentenced to clean the latrine on the Paveletskaya-Ring for a year.“

Mark hadn‘t finished explaining and Anna already bubbled over with laughter, leaning heavily on Artyom while doing so. Artyom kept a straight face, said face cracked only as he registered the restrained laughter to his right from Pavel on the counter. So he was indeed eavesdropping. He was as interested in finding out more about Artyom as he was in his wish to know more about Pavel. What did he do after their...incident at the Red Square? Did he change? Did he...regret? Just a little would be enough.

Pavel got some suspicious glances from his comrades because of his behaviour but eventually managed to maneuver himself out of the situation with his natural charm -because after he said something to them they seemed entirely at ease again.

[Good to know some things don‘t change.]

There he had to agree. Pavel’s charm was often pretty annoying, but at the same time it was what made Pavel who he was. An awkward, kinda adorable douchebag.

Anna was still chuckling, she wasn’t able to suppress her amusement. It was the first time he had seen her laugh her ass off like that. On his behalf, sure, but he didn‘t mind. At least not really. The memories of Paveletskaya-Ring weren‘t exactly nice ones. He had almost lost himself there. 5 days just shovelling his ass off, carrying loads and loads of shit from one point to another. And then that incident where he tripped and had fallen right…

“Our friend here managed to escape pretty early, that lucky one.“

Mark chuckled.

“Well, maybe not entirely lucky. He had bathed in shit to be able to escape from there. Like: _Literally_.“

And now Mark was laughing and Artyom's face heated up. Oh, yeah, he hated that part… And he had hoped that Mark hadn’t witnessed that vital part of his escape. Anna was laughing again, she could barely stand anymore, Mark was in a pretty good mood too. And Artyom was wearing a sour look, but still with pink cheeks out of embarrassment. He wouldn‘t dare to even get a glimpse of the bar, too afraid of the expression the man there could wear. He wanted to be able to think that maybe Pavel overheard that part so he would be spared the humiliation of knowing that Pavel knew about his not so glorious escape from a stupid bet.

“I swear no guard wanted to stand in his way! No wonder he could just walk right through the gates! -What makes me wonder… How were you even able to get rid of it?“

Artyom shifted uncomfortable.

“Well… I got to a monastery of sorts and...yeah. They helped me. And talked my ear off about their worshipping. I had to wear a really ugly robe. And they wanted me to join them. It was ridiculous.“

Anna seemed surprised.

“I didn‘t expect that.“

“What exactly?“

“I would‘ve sworn that you came straight from Exhibition to Polis without experiencing so much.“

Now it was Artyom‘s turn to laugh albeit just slightly and without much humor. He was so kind and fought the impulse off to snap at her for how she had acted on their first mission together.

“Well, you would‘ve lost the bet, Anna, that's for sure. I was captured by _nearly everything_ in the Metro by now, I suppose. ...Seriously, I don‘t think there is much left. -You ever heard about the savage cannibals of the Great Worm Cult?“

“Eh. Yeah. Not much. Why do you- oh. Don't tell me...“

She halted. Looking at him with disbelieve. Artyom shrugged.

“In Kievskaya I met my friend Anton and his son Oleg and learned that many residents of the station went missing, mostly children. Oleg disappeared too so Anton and I went searching for him.“

Anna gave him a wry look.

“Artyom playing the hero. _Again_. -Tell me, did you ever just walk away and let those people mind their own business?“

The words were harsh but fondly spoken, so Artyom gave his best to just ignore it. He didn‘t want to argue again with Anna and he knew that he made everything even more difficult for her. Mark frowned.

“Did you found the child?“

“Well, yes. In Park Pobedy. But we were captured by those cannibals. Miller and the others rescued us though.“

“And the child was okay?“

Artyom closed his eyes for a short time, but the pictures went only more vividly without his brain getting other visual information. He sighed.

“He survived that incident, yes, but he died later while we were on our way to D-6… That biomass under the Kremlin killed him.“

Anna‘s eyes went wide.

“Wait a moment. You mean that that Anton from your story is our Stalker Anton? The bitter one that always takes the missions that none else wants just so he can go alone?“

Artyom just looked at her. His face was indication enough.

“Jesus! I would‘ve never guessed that that was what had happened to him! But that explains why he was always so resentful of my father…“

“Not only of him. Everyone of us got a portion of that… But Miller got the biggest portion, I suppose. He hadn't been emphatic about Anton's loss.“

“The mission always goes first.“

Artyom rolled his eyes. But he knew of the truth in this statement.

“...Right.“

[And that‘s exactly why some of the Rangers aren‘t too happy about him keeping his job. Why should they be emphatic for him if he never was for them? What makes him special that he should be treated differently?]

Artyom frowned. He hadn‘t paid much attention to the Order and their problems. In fact he had been really happy to not have been bothered by any of it. And he couldn‘t quite get why he was in this whole mess all over again. Something went terribly wrong. But his talk with those strange ghosts or whatever those men had been, haunted him.

 _"It may happen something to you that forces you to perform specific actions and make specific decisions, keeping in mind you have free will, and you can do this or that. But if you make the right decision, then the things that happen to you are no longer just random events"_ Those men in this mysterious tunnel he had been in got stuck in his head. His actions were still strongly affected by them. Maybe he should treat this whole mess similar to his past experiences in the Metro. His road wasn't over... He glanced over to Pavel. Green meets blue. Pavel smiled slightly. Artyom gulped and looked aside quickly.

[Maybe that road of yours is just about to turn from a straight line into a kinda forked one? Maybe this here is all about choices. About recommencements.]

 "A recommencement..."

His murmur got him some strange looks. He rolled his eyes. He hated those looks but no matter what, he gained them in a constant manner. And the blame was all on his own.

"What is going on in your head, Artyom?"

Anna watched him. Carefully. Like observing a battlefield with her sniper-sight. For a second he thought her eyes went to the bar, but it was too fast to be sure of it. But not too fast to not gain a bad feeling about it.

-"Ehrm, e-excuse me, Sir? May I interrupt?"

One of the new recruits stood there, an utterly nervous one, and definitely not more than 20 years old. No. He must be even younger... Artyom couldn't deal with this kind of admiration. Really, he was at a loss there. But he tried to be polite and managed to wear a hopefully decent enough smile.

"Don't be so formal, recruit. Name's Artyom."

The young recruit got pale.

"I-I'm sorry, but I..."

He gulped. Hard.

"I can't do that. I just can't. I can't address the savior of my father so disrespectfully."

"The what?"

Mark blinked confused. And the boy tried to explain himself.

"This man found mercy for my father where none would have. Not even myself. He had been a lost cause for me. Being with the Nazis and all..."

"Your old man is a Nazi??"

Anna couldn't believe that he was allowed to be a recruit with that family history. This was...just unbelievable! How could her father authorize that?

The young man rubbed his arm, apparently feeling really queasy. Artyom tried to steady himself more. Anna had a murderous gaze. No wonder the recruit was reacting that way. Laying a hand assertively on her shoulder he gave the boy a supportive smile to continue.

"Well, yes, he _was_ one. ..He had been based at Black Station around 5 years ago."

Artyom's face immediately darkened. That had been quite the hellhole... And the Nazi soldiers there had been tasked with wiping out Hole Station, which had been full of innocent people. And as far as he knew they had succeeded.

"It is not a noble act to have mercy on a killer, boy."

Mark had an unreadable face while speaking. Artyom frowned.

"Not all those who follow false ideologies are truly bad people, Mark. I have eavesdropped many of those Nazi's in my travels. Nearly half of them followed just because of their need to protect their families. To be able to feed them."

"Yeah, but they could've chosen otherwise. There is _always_ a choice, Artyom!"

"Of course there is. But sometimes all options selectable are just _crap_. And don't tell me those situations don't exist, because _they do_. Hell, I had way too many of those myself by now, I've lost count."

The boy had to snort in amusement, but he tried his best to hide it. Anna shook her head, trying not to judge her husband's opinions by changing the topic, to get to the point so they'll be able to leave this conversation with at least some content.

"So, recruit, what is the reason for your show up? I suppose you came not all the way just to thank our visionary over there?"

"Uh, well... Vladimir sent me. He said I should inform you that your son wants to see you. The boy seemed pretty upset about something."

Immediately Artyom flashed into action. Nearly growling he had to suppress his need to just grab the boy at his sleeve and push him against the nearest wall possible.

"Next time my son send word that he needs me you say so _immediately_ , understood?"

There was not even a glimpse of the warmth in his voice from before and the recruit nodded intimidated.

"Understood. -And...my apologies."

Artyom sighed deeply, putting his anger forcefully aside.

"Alright. Let's go."

-"But the conference is about to continue any minute! You cannot be seriously considering to leave now!"

Anna crossed her arms. But Artyom was not an inch daunted.

" _I couldn't care less._ "

"You can't just walk away like that, Artyom! For once, _think_!"

"Well, isn't that funny? You call me a 'clouded visionary' all the time while talking like this conference here will archive anything even remotely meaningful?"

Anna opened her mouth. Closed it again. She was speechless. She couldn't believe what just had happened. And he meant it. He turned and left. Just like that. And without looking back. Or waiting a bit to give her a chance to answer. As if he didn't care. For anything. That he had been totally rude to those men that attempted these talks, to the young recruit -and above all to her _as his wife_.

They were in a political dilemma and he talked like that to her out in the open? Furious she closed her eyes. Counted to 10. Then to 20. -God, she had married a _full-blown imbecile_!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gathering of the three factions had been rather fruitless, so they start one last attempt to find a common ground. Well, guess how that will go? ...Yeah.... But fortunately Artyom acts on his instincts for the first time and speaks up. If they won't act, then he had to take matters into his own hands!

Anna and Artyom stood in a crowd, waiting for the outcome of the private gathering of Miller, Rusakov and Moskvin. It seemed to be the last hope of gaining some sort of conformity. It was hard to believe that that would accomplish anything useful…

Artyom looked to his side where Anna stood. She hadn’t been there most of the night and to his surprise he was just shocked that he sincerely don't mind. To be honest he had appreciated the serenity the evening without her had provided him.

They hadn’t talked since yesterday's incident and even after Anna came back early in the morning they have avoided each other as best as possible.

But now that they had to stand next to each other Anna could feel her anger coming up again.

“...I can’t believe you left me out in the rain.”

Anna waited, but the accused stood silent. His face nearly blank. That made her even more furious.

“You know, I thought we’d agreed to help my father out! To work together for a better future!”

Artyom sighed.

“Anna, please. This is not a proper environment for that kind of talk.”

"Moron..." and with this she crossed her arms, looking the other way. Artyom exhaled sharply. That went as well as it could have. But he didn't have the nerves to talk with her again.

Not after what Porthos had revealed him the night before and the logical consequences of that that had kept him too anxious to sleep more than half an hour.

Miller was already there, standing in front of them by the podium. Secretary Moskvin entered the room with a grim look on his face. Then Rusakov followed a few moments after that. All three of them looked exhausted and extremely dissatisfied.

“The talks will be recessed.”

And with that their great leaders left the podium and everyone gabbled on. Artyom could feel bile in his mouth. Miller came over to them.

“Well, the talks are nearly over. In my opinion it is about time we start shooting at each other. At least then we’ll start to be honest again! All those false promises, the pretending!”

Alarmed Anna looked to the side. Their people could hear this! It would be disastrous for their morale to hear this shit right now.

“Father, please lower your voice!”

“Don’t you dare shushing me, Anna! I’m not in the mood for your foolish thoughts! And I certainly don’t care if I can be heard!”

Artyom frowned.

“Have you broached the subject up as I asked you to?”

“We had more pressing matters to discuss than the nightmares of your boy!”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back! Furiously Artyom confronted that foolish old man.

“I’ve got enough of your bullshit!”

“Excuse me??”

Miller looked over to him short-temperately. Artyom noticed the increased attention they got, but found that he was mad enough that he didn’t care.

“I’m sick of waiting for you three to start being honest with those peace attempts!”

Moskvin was immediately put into a rage.

-“How dare you accuse me of being-”

“Don’t fool me, Moskvin! If you are so _honest_ , why didn’t you tell them what lingers in your tunnels and threatens to extinguish your great Red Line? The very reason you’re here at all?”

Moskvin gazed at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, saying nothing. Artyom snorted. 

“Yeah. I figured that much...”

-“Wait. Moskvin, what is the meaning of this??”

Miller was perplexed and looked back and forth from Moskvin and Artyom. The Red Line leader was pale and at a loss of word.

“There is no way you could've known about it!”

“You bet?”

Artyom knew exactly of what Moskvin thought right now. His journey inside Moskvin’s brain was a vivid memory for both of them. The old man feared him since that time. And it hadn’t changed a bit, Artyom could feel the fear coming off the old communist in waves without the need to see like a Dark One. Or maybe he did, just in his own way.

“Artyom! Explain this! "

Miller looked at him. Demanding.

“I already told you! Before the missiles the Reds managed to take some Dark Ones as prisoners and apparently one of them went rogue and started to destroy their Stations bit by bit. And with their numbers significantly decreasing they’re in dire need of alliances…"

He turned to Moskvin. 

"I really don’t understand your motives, Moskvin. If you would have explained us what is happening from the beginning-”

-“You wouldn’t talked to me at all!”

Moskvin was sweating like hell and seemed pretty desperate. Miller snorted.

“Exactly! And why should we? If we wait long enough it will destroy you all. We can sit back and watch you squirm like rats. That seems a lot more reasonable and way easier!”

Rusakov shook his head slightly.

“Not so fast, Miller. If we would indeed wait and see until all Reds are gone, what would that thing do then? Wouldn’t it try to destroy those that killed it’s kind?”

Miller sighed annoyed.

“Then we’ll kill this thing! Hell, we’ve killed so many of them, we’ll get that one, too!"

“ _You won’t._ ”

All heads went to Artyom.

“We have to disrupt that circle of killing in order to gain forgiveness from the remaining Dark Ones!" 

“Are you nuts?”

Rusakov looked at him in disbelieve. Artyom continued in his speech, knowing that there was little hope for anyone to believe or even understand what he said.

“They can help us to rebuild what we’ve lost. With their help we could one day live on the surface again!”

“As if!”

-“Aren’t you the one that killed them all in the first place??”

Artyom closed his eyes for a moment. Oh, how much he hated his life right now... 

“Yes. I wanted to,  because we thought that they wanted to destroy our Station… I’ve realized my mistake later, but it was too late to stop the missiles… A child of them survived though and later on that little Dark One was the reason D6 and all the people within it didn’t explode!"

Rusakov shook his head in disbelieve. Again. He was at a loss.

“That’s some shitshow you try to sell us, boy!”

Miller tried to send Artyom discreet signals to stop talking right now. They had agreed after the battle that they would not speak of the true happenings because Miller believed that the Order would only gain the reputation of being weak. 

But Artyom believed in honesty.

“Well, the truth is: we were about to lose the battle of D6. General Korbut was already giving us one of his nice little speeches about winning and losing and communism being great and so on -and got easily distracted with it. There was no chance of protecting D6 and its dangerous secrets from him, so Miller gave me the command to self-destruct. I followed and the only reason I’m still standing here is because the Dark Ones intervened.”

“How could we believe anything you said?”

“Well, you don’t have to. But if you’ve seen Miller’s reactions to my tale right now you may be convinced. Or you still don't. I honestly don’t care, because everything you all care about are simple solutions without much thinking. Kill or spare. Help or deny. Ranger or Hansa. Red or Nazi. Evil or Good. Black or White...  Most of you think in boxes, too afraid to question anything. I’m not like that. At least not anymore. I changed. You could too. And that’s the only reason we were spared by the Dark Ones. We have potential to be _better_."

All was silent. Artyom shivered slightly.

“And despite our history and your pessimistic expectations, Secretary Moskvin, I’ll offer my help. Not as a Ranger of the Order maybe, but as the only human being that was adopted by the Dark Ones. I’ll find the One and stop the massacring.”

“And if I don’t want it?”

Artyom shrugged.

“It would complicate my mission needlessly, but that won’t stop me. I owe it to them.”

“...And what makes you so sure of leaving this place in one piece?”

“Because you would be really stupid if you would harm me?  I’m your only connection to the Dark Ones.”

“What makes _you_ so special?”

There it was. The question he had asked himself endlessly.

“...I sincerely don’t know.”

About to leave he was stopped by Rusakov.

“Boy, wait.”

Said one stood silently. Waiting calmly.

“Well, I really don’t know if I believe everything you say, but regardless you’ve accomplished many things that I deemed being not possible. You’ve infiltrated the Nazis with ease and despite your lack of pride I know from many sources how determined you traveled through the Metro to stop the war. To stop that maniac Korbut. Whatever and whoever tried to stand in your way or captured you, they didn’t stand a chance, because you always miraculously reached your goal one way or another...  I’m a man of reason, yes, and that's exactly why it would be irresponsible as my role as president if I wouldn't offer some form of help."

He paused, looking thoughtfully at Artyom before continuing. 

"I'll give you one of my best men to accompany you and you'll be equipped with everything you need. Just...Just be sure to stop that creature from reaching our borders."

Miller sighed rather annoyed. He felt like he was now forced to stand behind Artyom, because that fool acted as one of his Rangers. His reputation would decrease definitely if he would stay silent, now that Rusakov was behind the boy he had to be supportive in some way. 

"I'll give you official permission to leave... Just get the hell out of here."

His voice lacked the venom it would need to be taken as a seriously harmful statement. Miller seemed to be exhausted from the political affairs so far and he sure as hell was just happy that one great nuisance would be out of Station for who knows how long. If that idiot would make it back at all.

With despair Artyom thought of his son. It would be so hard to leave him, because he had promised that Porthos could stay with him, that he would not leave the boy alone...

That would definitely be the worst sacrifice he ever had to make...

Moskvin was in awe and somehow almost relieved that this cursed Ranger stepped in for him. He certainly didn't like him, but he couldn't deny how successful he had been before. Relying on him was really his best shot. 

"Well, I didn't expect that attitude...Of course mostly out of self-preservation, but still. It is more than I had ever thought could happen."

Rusakov grimaced.

"Maybe that was necessary to get us to work together."

Miller just grunted. The meaning behind that was rather dubious, one could only speculate how to interpret it. But either way Moskvin was delighted.

"I, of course, will also choose one of my own to accompany you to guarantee your success."

Artyom tried not to grimace. He really wasn't fond of being accompanied by strangers. And although all that talking was in some way important he couldn't stop spacing out for some moments. He started to blink rapidly as his blurred vision caught a familiar face.

"Major Morozov volunteered for that essential mission. Do not disappoint me, Major! .... _There won't be another chance_."

Rusakov was talking with his initiate, while Miller was arguing with Anna in a low voice, but Artyom saw her fierce face and sensed that she disagreed with something. She certainly wanted to participate. And Miller sure as hell wouldn't allow it -somehow or other it was loud enough that Moskvin's silent threat to Pavel wasn't getting any attention.  
Artyom had Anna's voice in his head _"Tell me, did you ever just walk away and let those people mind their own business?"_ while he was already approaching the secretary. 

"Since you don't have a straight record of success yourself, you sure won't judge others, right? Like the generous and _fearless_ communist you are?"

He didn't manage to keep his mockery completely out of his voice. But he sincerely didn't try hard enough. Moskvin's brows curled and his eyes got a dark glint, but surprisingly he managed to keep his inner turmoil at bay and straightened his composure.

"Of course."

"Excellent."

And with this Artyom ignored the so called "leader" of the "great communism" and addressed Rusakov directly.

"President Rusakov, Miller. I intend to leave Polis as soon as possible, but first of all I've got to settle a private matter of mine."

"Of course. In the meantime I'll task my men with gathering the needed supplies."

"Time and place will be communicated shortly."

Nodding Artyom excused himself and went straight to his tent, being shortly followed by Anna.

[That should be fun...]

Artyom sighed deeply.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which Porthos is awesome and Artyom starts his journey with the representatives - having one hell of an awkward talk.

With every step Artyom‘s heart ached. Porthos just looked at him and he knew. He just knew what his father dealt with. What he had to do. Arytom doesn't have to talk about it at all and he was relieved. Because there were no words to describe his regret.  
Smiling regretful his son threw himself right at him, nudging his face in his jacket. The boy was clinging on his clothes like he wanted to crawl inside his father. Shura whined lowly, leaning slightly on Artyom‘s left leg. She wanted to be a part of this too.

They just stood like that for as long as they could. Anna watched them with an ache inside her. It hurt. She was the one that should go. She was replaceable, but not Artyom. Without him their son would lose everything.

“...Artyom? It is about time...“

She hated to break the silence but it was necessary. Postponing never made anything any easier.

With a throaty voice he agreed monosyllabically and lifted Porthos up. Together they collected a few things he would take with him. Well, in fact it was just his diary. And maybe he would take one of the three books he currently read with him: _The Rise & Fall of Communism_, _The foundations of Leninism_ and _The Communist Manifesto_ … He took the first one, putting the other two back on the somehow ancient looking table of them.

Anna fought the sour taste in her mouth back and concentrated on the ring on her finger, because what else should she do? She sighed deeply concerned while fidgeting with the silver ring. Should they discuss this specific matter? There was no meaning in those two rings anymore and they both knew it. Maybe they won’t get another chance to speak about it. But she wasn’t sure about it.

Even on their way to the meeting place -the gate to the tunnel that lead straight to Teatralnaya they were silent. Anna was too unsure of what to say and her husband and son seemed both to like the lack of words...  
In the distance they could already see that everyone was there. The common folk weren’t allowed to participate and Artyom was thankful for that. To his surprise there weren’t just the two representatives from the Red Line and Hansa.

“Danila?”

The young man smiled.

“Miller sent me. I’ll accompany you.”

Artyom nodded as a form of acceptance, because somehow he felt overwhelmed by the realisation that Pavel was just standing there and watching him interacting with Danila. And he realized just now that he'll have to deal with the Red on a constant basis. He wouldn’t be able to ignore him. At least not for very long. They'll have to work together. Even worse, he had to pretend that nothing happened between them to make that happen. How was he supposed to survive that?

“Portoschka...“, Artyom began, but even as he started to speak he knew that he was at a loss of words. He was really bad at goodbyes. His son took Artyom's face in his little hands and smiled.

“I already know, daddy. I told you about my dream for this very reason... I knew you'll have to leave me. But you'll come back. That I know for sure, too. I'm not scared. I can wait.“

It was hard not to lose his shit right now. Blinking tears away Artyom hugged his son as tight as he thought his son could manage.

"I love you so much!"

Porthos giggled.

"I love you, too."

Smiling he let go of Artyom, taking the few steps back to his mother, standing next to her while petting Shura. Anna and Artyom just shared a look.

"Stay safe."

Artyom nodded barely visible and turned away from his family, entering the tunnel without looking back. His companions quickly caught up.It felt strange to walk straight into the tunnels of the Reds, not feeling like someone will ambush them in any minute, and understandably he was feeling that way nearly any second that passed -while avoiding any memories regarding his last "visit" of the Teatre...

While Artyom wouldn't mind the silence that crept around them he knew that he had at least two with him that liked to talk -a lot. And as if they had heard his thoughts Danila started chatting.

"I'm pretty sure we weren't introduced to one another properly... I'm afraid I only know Artyom so far."

The representative from Hansa immediately responded.

"Name's Nikolai. Nearly 10 years of service on Oktjabeskaya. Before the bombs I was a doctor-in-training and had just visited my relatives -right before the whole shit started. It was a mess..."

Danila shrugged.

"I hardly remember anything from it."

The Hansa-representative smirked.

"You must've been no more than a little child, don't you? No wonder you don't remember much."

"...As the bombs fell I had been at the market with my old man... Blin, really don't know anymore how that place were called, not even where it lies. Somewhere above the Sokolniki I believe... All hell was let loose. Those bastards stamped a kid I had known nearly to death...", he coughed, somehow feeling too exposed. "Not really a fond memory of mine, eh?"

"And you are?", Danila was looking at the Red like he had to hold back to not jump at the man with a knife in his hand. After the battle of D6 the tension regarding the Red Line was rather tight.

"Major Pavel Igorevich Morozov, pleased to meet you, priyatel!"

Danila frowned, examining Pavel for the first time thoroughly.

"Aren't you that little fucker that got rescued by Artyom even though you betrayed him -a fact none of us understood not in the slightest?"

Pavel gulped, scratching his neck uncomfortably. Artyom sighed.

"Danila, it was not like that, just shut the fuck up!"

"Whoa, keep cool, Artyom! It was not my intention to-"

"-To babble about things that are in no way your fucking business?"

"OK, OK, I'm sorry. Blja budu! (I swear to god!)"

"Good..."

Artyom had enough to do by ignoring his own discomfort as best as he could... It didn't take Danila long to speak up again though and Artyom rolled his eyes, his mood sinking even more if possible. Pavel was awkwardly avoiding anyone's gaze, he felt pretty ridiculous himself and the Hansa-guy clearly wasn't sure what to say to all of this.

"Well, I now know that this is certainly one hell of a touchy subject, which makes me wonder... what is it between you two?"

Artyom immediately came to a halt. Pavel looked shocked for a moment, before his face was clouded with some form of a cautious and well built offended look. And to Artyom's own surprise his reaction hit a nerve he didn't even knew existed.

"I'm not sure I can follow?"

"Well, you know? Messing around? ...Screw each other?"

"Blyakha-mukha! (Fucking hell!) I'm no fucking Peetoókh ("gay")!"

"Whoa, no need for strong words, my friend. It was just a question."

"Yeah? I'll tell you what, Yo-o-ob tvoju matj, (Fuck your mother,) you little piece of shit!"

The oldest of them shook his head quite amused and managed to get in between the two brawlers.

"Stop messing around with such trivia like some boys from the street and start acting like soldiers."

Artyom sent a devout ejaculation up to heaven. That was indeed a promising start of their journey together.

"Let's just walk in silence again, _please_...", he muttered, quite embarrassed and clearly confused as to how they've got to that kind of topic.

[And why are you so mortified? Why did his grand response hurt you? Nah. You know why. ...Do I really have to spell it out?]

Artyom had to force himself to shut up, otherwise he would've answered Zhenya straight away with a charming _"Get lost!"_.

"...That reminds me, Artyom, I'm really interested in how you managed to steal Miller's daughter right under his nose?"

"Pardon me?"

Danila gave him an eyebrow stating quite plain a " _I know you know what I know_ ". Artyom growled inwardly. Had Danila always been such a noisy companion?? He couldn't evaluate it.

"Danila, that had been a polite attempt to tell you to get lost..."

Pouting exaggeratedly the young man smacked Artyom's shoulder which had no result at all.

"Man, don't be cross with me! Who had put that stick up your arse, Artyom? -Have you always been that grumpy?"

Artyom sighed.

"Probably. I don't really care though."

"Hmpf. I certainly don't remember you like that. But, well, we just had this one mission together."

"The one where you got injured even before we entered the building entirely? Where you had to be dragged all the way back to HQ _by Miller?_ Not to mention that I had to manage the librarians alone? You mean _that_ mission?..."

"...I guess."

Artyom rolled his eyes.

"Seriously _how_ could I ever forget that?"

Danila laughed nervously.

"Well... I suppose I made not the best impression."

-"Librarians? Like in...well, _more_ than one of them?"

Pavel seemed rather horrified. Artyom shrugged.

"I hadn't time to count them, but they sure were a lot."

Danila came in between them, making it impossible for Artyom to just talk a little bit with Pavel _alone_. It was frustrating yet nothing he didn't expect to happen. They would get their talk in the near future, he was sure of it. 

"It was kind of awesome that you managed to go on at all! I don't know if I would've been capable of that. Those things sure are scary as hell..."

Danila shuddered while Artyom shrugged.

"No need to embellish anything, I was scared _shitless..._ Not a week before that day I had been only on duty to guard the tunnel to Botanitscheski Sad - and that was all "field experience" I had so far."

"You're kidding me?"

"Why should I? I was thrown in at the deep end. ...Nothing I would love to repeat but I guess it served me well enough afterwards."

Nikolai was shocked. 

"That's one way to see it... But in my opinion it was irresponsible from Miller to send you on your own..."

Artyom shrugged.

"I would've done it nevertheless. At that time I was in belief of losing my Station if I don't find D6 in time. I would've done anything to rescue my people. Well, I still would."

"Of that I'm sure. Your past actions are proof enough... Which makes me wonder... You really expect us to not kill that thing? ...Won't it attack us the moment we reach the Theatre? - _If_ it's still there of course..."

"You're only _accompanying_ me. I don't expect that you won't defend yourselves, but I expect that you all are capable of following orders -otherwise you can turn around _in an instant_."

"Understood."

Nikolai immediately responded with determination in his voice. Danila was looking rather pissed for reasons beyond Artyom's understanding (his guessing was that he didn't like to be ordered around by someone even younger than himself) while Pavel's facial expressions were unreadable.

Somehow or other none of them turned around, they all continued to follow the tunnel, surrounded with a somehow grimly atmosphere. But Artyom couldn't care less. His mission was to at least try to stop the Dark One _peacefully_ and definitely not to eliminate by sight.

[Up until now you'll always had to do the job alone at the end. No one accompanying you ever managed to stay with you until the end. So chances are high we'll lose those idiots on the road in some way or another...]

Agreeing Artyom couldn't stop his instinct to look at Pavel. Feeling all kind of things he wouldn't dare to name. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pavel got separated and unwanted doubts start to fill his troubled mind.

“Blyadj! Those little bitches ’re all over this fuckin place!”

Pavel shot two nosalises dead and cut another one apart that wanted to flank him. Breathing heavily he looked around.

"Well, fuck, where the hell is everyone?”

The half-way collapsed tunnel was empty. Above him was still that big hole from which he had fallen. Swearing to himself (again...) he examined his arm, still expecting a next attack.

“Those creatures sure as hell ‘ve sharp teeth...”

It was bleeding pretty bad, but the bite was not as deep as one would guess by looking at the amount of fluids he was losing.

“Damn those little monsters!”

With putting a little piece of cloth tightly around the wound he tried to lighten up his dark surroundings more. He had to find some way to find his group again because there was no way Artyom would send someone for him. Not after their troubled history…

He sighed deeply. Those three bastards didn’t even try to contact him after the ground crashed down beneath him. And that surely wasn’t just because of the beasts they maybe didn’t want to disturb any further. So that could only mean that he had been left for good...

His body hurt, it was a sharp pain piercing through his chest. He knew the cause of this, but intended not to evaluate it any further. He knew it wouldn’t do him good. He had already lost enough of his former certainty. And certainty was everything. It kept him going. Gave him a purpose. And since Artyom happened that all was about to fall apart to little fucking pieces!

Angry at himself, at everything that ever happened, he started to walk in the direction he guessed was the one the rest of the group would follow. He walked for a while in complete silence that gave him the creeps. That bad feeling in his gut just got worse. Not till he heard unfamiliar voices in the distance he started to act on it. Sneaking slowly closer he started to hear those men more properly -and his heart skipped a beat as he was able to see them, standing beside a torch that illuminated their uniforms.

It was a strange mixture of feelings he possessed discovering that they were from Red Line. Not seeing any sense in hiding any more he exited the shadows with a well guarded straight face while approaching.

“Ah, Major! We feared the worst the moment we heard the tunnel collapsing! Good to see you still alive and kickin’!”

Smiling he waved aside.

“Nah, I’m not that easy to kill. -Back to business, priyatel, what the hell ‘re you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Yeah, well… About that...”

His subordinates were looking at him kinda strange. Like they feared him to know the answer, or, even worse, as if they suspected him somehow to react in some inappropriate way... Well, he was someone that liked to pinpoint certain things but now he could not ignore his concerns any longer. There were more and more facts just bouncing right before his head that Artyom -that his whole party- had been captured. That this most likely had been Moskvin’s plan all along…

He gritted his teeth, realized his mistake in the same moment and forced his body to relax again. Smiling, to ease off any doubts the men could probably held, he crossed his arms in a demanding manner.

“What is the meaning of your babbling?”

“...To put in bluntly: the Secretary wasn’t so sure where your loyalty lies, so he forgot to mention that he wishes the Ranger to be captured for further interrogation.”

Pavel was almost about to laugh at them. It seemed so fucking unbelievable that they would actually hold Artyom captive for more than a few hours, maybe days at top. That boy of his was after all as obstinate as a mule and way too strong-minded to be intimidated by most of things any more. After General Korbut’s way of interrogation -which he had been able to execute solely because Pavel had made it possible... He had used their friendship to achieve a goal Korbut said was needed to achieve what they all fought for so desperately… But in the end it had only been for gaining power and destroying the Order. At least that was what it felt like afterwards. He had no idea what Korbut thought. That man had always been good at deceiving others and never been fond of him to begin with…

“...Major?”

He spaced out too long to paper over the cracks.

“Don’t we have more urgent matters to worry about? Where is this thing now exactly? I’ve seen it destroying our forces at Red Square, so it sure as hell wasn’t just some telltale to lure the Ranger into our territory.”

“We were able to hold it in place at Ljubljanka, Major, but we surely won’t be able to hold it there forever.”

“...So Moskvin wants to deliver the Ranger straight to it, hoping that it’s rage will be sated with eliminating the one responsible for killing it’s comrades, I guess?”, he felt like getting sick while talking. 

“Of course.”

Pavel growled slightly. He couldn’t stop himself.

“But Artyom said that he would deal with that matter! Why capturing him beforehand? Why destroying everything from the very beginning? I don’t get it…”

The slightly taller man shrugged.

“We’ll definitely lose the possibility of gaining some common ground with the other fractions, that's for sure. Personal revenge is a fucked up way and shows just how honorable our dear Secretary is, but that’s just me saying.”

“Eduard, we shouldn't talk like that. It will only get us in trouble...”, the soldier sighed defeated, “But I’ll have to admit…I fear for our cause, too. It feels like that path of blind cruelty just starts all over again. Major, what do you think of all this shit? Don't you find it hard these days to stay loyal to those in power? Don't misunderstand me, I am 100% loyal to our cause, I just...”

He was at a loss of words. Pavel sighed.

"I understand."

He had to press those words out of gritted teeth, but they were true. He felt just as helpless as those soldiers before him.

"...Maybe the Resistance is the better option these days?"

"Yeah, well, I would've never thought to say this ever, but maybe they are indeed. At least that young lad Leonid seems to be a sane boy, it is said that he distaste violence strongly. Maybe that is exactly what we need. A fresh wind. I could really use some peaceful years these days..."

Pavel could not elaborate how to feel hearing those treasonous words. It was disturbing that he did not act immediately. He tried to focus and shoved his conflicted feelings aside.

"Do you know where the Ranger and his companions are?"

"No idea. Ivan and the others did not report back yet. They 're late, but we have strict orders. In about 30 minutes we're to report to Michail and his men."

"Where are Ivan and the rest stationed?"

"Right above us, well, maybe a little bit down the tunnel where you've come from. We were just stationed here to see how Ivan's "surprise" up there turns out, you know?"

The urgency of time raised Pavel's blood pressure.

 "I'll have to go there."

The two soldiers exchanged a look.

"Major, why are you so eager to go up there?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean no disrespect, sir, but if they are indeed captured, what will you do?"

Pavel felt trapped. Yeah. What would he do? What was the meaning in going up there in the first place?

"That's my affair."

"...You can use the lever on the right side of the tunnel. Behind that broken pillar."

"...Thanks."

And with it he was one with the shadows again.

 

As he arrived the camp of the so called "Ivan and Co" was...well, surprisingly silent and the cause of it was alarmingly relieving. Ten men were lying on the ground and except for one they were all just knocked out. He knew immediately that Artyom had been here. He was sure of it. And by the blood on the chest of the dead one he knew that they couldn't be gone for long. The body fluids were still warm.

A sound echoed from the tunnel and let Pavel freeze in an instant. Nosalises. But what provoked them? Silently going further into the tunnel he ran his fingers along the mildly wet wall. His flashlight was not the brightest idea right now. He'll manage with what little light the tunnel provided in hope to be at an advantage. Chances weren't high, sure, but it was worth a shot.

The moment he heard gunshots he hurried further inside. Voices echoed along the walls and as soon as he heard Artyom he exhaled a breath he didn't realized to hold. Without hesitation he throw himself against nosalises that attacked his Ranger. Artyom was flanked from all sides from those monsters, as if they hated him for some reasons more than the others.

"Pavel?"

His face was full of astonishment.

"How the hell did you find us? We were looking for you _everywhere_ in this damn tunnel!"

He seemed to be on the verge of punching him. Fortunately he had a hand full of nosalises to deflect his anger.

"Nu, don't be a sissy, Artyomich! I was looking for you too, you know? ...Maybe we missed each other at some point?"

The younger man mumbled under his breath.

"Maybe. Just be more careful next time.", he said while shooting one beast behind Pavel straight through the head. His capability with a gun was undeniable genius. He was amazed every fucking time that boy of his did something like that as if it was no deal at all. Just unbelievable! He couldn't hide his big grin and, more importantly, he didn't want to. Because Artyom was safe, he would not use the knowledge he got to hurt. Never. Because Artyom was a good person. One of a kind.

"Don't tell me you were worried, Artyomich!"

It was meant as something as a joke, at least he tried to cloak it as that because he truly didn't know why he said it, but Artyom just gave him the strangest of all looks. It sent goosebumps all over his body. Did he misunderstood his response for a flirtation? Oh god, he got it all wrong!

"Blin, I-"

He was cut short by one of the monsters knocking him over and pinning him on the ground, it's ugly teeth inches away from his face while he fought it off with as much strength he could muster. And of course he managed to lose his gun while falling... One could get the impression that he was a fucking greenhorn!

"Blyakha! (Fuck!) Get off me you bitch!"

With some precise shots that massive monster was stopped in attacking him. It collapsed pressing the air out of his lungs with its fall. But the moment Pavel thought he had to puke the weight disappeared, allowing him to suck his breaths in. The others had pulled that beast off of him. Drafting himself up he coughed, not able to hide the smile that this near-death-experience forced out of him. It was typical for him by now to nearly die. Some sort of bad habit he caught on his journey with Artyom.

"Phooh, of course the one monster collapsing above me had to be the chubbiest beast of them all! -That's just my fucking luck, eh?"

And as always his coping mechanism was humor. But Artyom wasn't fond of joining in. He seemed rather furious for some reason.

"Pavel, seriously! Don't you think that you had enough near-death experiences by now? I swear if you dare to die before me, I'll drag you out of the hands of those Lost Souls yet again just to _beat the shit out of you_!"

Danila smiled mischievously but one look of Artyom and he swallowed whatever he was about to say. The grin on his face stayed though. And this strange spark in his eyes while watching Pavel raised hackles all over said one. The Major gulped. What was going on here? 

Sighing Artyom ripped his knife out of the head of one of the monsters and wiped the blood away with a little piece of cloth. His face full of disgust.

"I suppose this welcome party from the Reds was just a misunderstanding?"

Pavel fidgeted with his gloves, somehow unable to meet Artyom's gaze.

"Well, I spoke to some soldiers in the tunnel below us, well maybe just slightly diagonal to this one here... Blin, don't know exactly. -Nevertheless, I'm actually pretty sure I wasn't told a thing about the Secretary's real motives."

With a surprised look Artyom eyeballed him, his distrust clearly visible. Pavel missed the look on his face where he had trusted him with so much innocence in his eyes and open affection. There had been some real special bond of friendship between them and he'll be damned if he won't be able to see that again someday! Maybe not today or tomorrow or the day after that. But he definitely would gain Artyom's trust again! Somehow...

Artyom continued to speak.

"We'll have to be smart about our next move. This camp surely won't be the only one. And on top of that we cannot be sure that the Dark One really is there where Moskvin said he would be..."

Pavel met his gaze.

"Well, about that... As far as those men were informed that "Dark One" is currently held somewhere in Ljubljanka, but nothing that holds it off permanently from getting away."

"Okay... Breaking in won't be easy...But maybe-"

"-With all due respect, Artyom, you can't possibly consider to break into _Ljubljanka_! No sane man would even consider it!"

"With all due respect, Danila, you can leave at any time!"

"Artyom, please, be smart about this! Why do you even believe this traitor? He lied to you before, he'll do so again!"

Artyom's gaze went to Pavel. Pavel did his best to hold the eye contact. Artyom smiled mildly. That smile had some sort of deep tiredness in it that gave Pavel a solid stomachache.

"He is telling the truth."

"Yeah, _right_. _Of course_... You know what? Fuck this shit! You're emotionally compromised and I won't die for a bydlo* and his fucked up lyub imaya! (Darling/ sweetheart/love)"

Artyom inhaled with a blank expression that froze one's blood.

"Do as you please. I'll reach my goal -with or without your sorry existence. Go back to Miller and prepare for some serious conversation the moment I get back."

Gulping, but too proud to show that these words had a rather strong effect, he held his head high while walking back from where they'd come. The bold laughter from the old Hansa-soldier echoed through the entire tunnel.

"What a day!"

His laugh was contagious enough that even Artyom had to chuckle, at least a bit.

"Well, believe me, Artyom, I had to deal with a comrade like this too. I had just begun my service and..."

Pavel smiled slightly, watching the young Ranger listening to a tale of the old man about his first mission that went wrong because of one man similar to that prick Danila. It was the first time Artyom looked at least a little bit healthier. He seemed to be in a constant bad mood since parting from his little boy, full of stress and inner darkness. Pavel closed his eyes, suddenly being overwhelmed by a memory of his.

_"I see, I see the past and the future... I see a long road and an important task before you... Heavy sadness... cold pipes... an unexpected friend in dark clouds..."_

Pavel had to clench his fists so he won't make any suspicious sounds.

_"....a dark fate follows your steps... I'll tell you this: There is a long road ahead and then a forked road and one way from that fork goes down, down as far as the eye can see and it‘s not you chosen the road but it's you who'll walk the chosen road."_

He blinked, breathing heavily. And for the first time he seemed to understand what that crazy old hag had said to him back then.

 

 

*bydlo= a simpleminded and usually strong bloke, that is easily manipulated by others


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pavel behaves as conflicted as ever, Artyom is annoyed by the fact that he is haunted by his friend's past actions way more severely than the Red seemed to be and Nikolai that poor old dude is right in the middle of that mess.

Artyom knew he was dreaming again. He saw Zhenya and Vitalik, following him to the hermetic door. He saw himself opening it. Then the Watchers came and he sends his friends back inside, ready to shoot the mutants. The shotgun jammed, the familiar fear crept inside his heart. Then the dark one appeared. Artyom tried to memorize more. The way it looked at him. No: She. The way _she_ looked at him.

He had no idea why he was so sure of that now. But he felt like it mattered. Somehow. His savior stood there with him. He was no longer afraid. They both looked at the sky, watching the stars. And he felt at peace. The dark one held him. Not with his body. It was her mind. Tugging at Artyom’s softly, trying to find an entrance. Some common ground. He felt the curiosity of the other one.

But he had to go. His friends were shouting his name inside the Metro. He wanted to thank that strange being, but it was gone the moment he looked back. Creeped out he ran back inside. And then his dream turned from simple reliving a memory to something entirely different.

Artyom turned around in his sleep, making sounds of displeasure. The hermetic door disappeared in complete darkness, his friends too. There was nothing. Just thick, suffocating emptiness.

And then he felt it. The mental nudge, full of feelings that were too much to bear. So much hate. So much pain. And sadness. Lonely. So lonely. And then red. Everything red. He saw himself standing on the TV tower, watching the inferno of the exploding city of the dark one’s. Watching how hundreds of homes turned to ashes and flesh burned to dust. He felt sick. The stranger’s rage got more intense. And then he heard it.

“ _...Murderer!”_ It was with a low voice, hard to understand, but it made it even more spine-chilling. Artyom felt like he was losing ground. _“_ _You are a m_ _urderer...”_ He was falling. Falling endlessly. But not fast enough. Faster. He had to be faster. _“Murderer!”_ The voice got louder. He could sense that the dark one was about to reach him.

And that was the moment he realized that it was exactly like his experience with that one dark one that had tried to stop him back at the tower. This here, this was very real! His blood ran cold. He felt hands on his shoulder and froze in horror. The grip got more tense. This was it. The dark one would kill him for sure! He had to do something! Anything!

-“Whoa! Eeeasy, chuvak, easy! It’s just me! See? Put the knife down!”

Artyom blinked. Irritated. His eyes fixated on the big hand that laid on his shoulder. Even through his clothes he felt the warmth. He craved for more, it was hard not to lean into the touch but the fear that the other man would immediately shy away prevented him from doing so.

“Nu, see? Just the good ol’ face you love, eh?”

Pavel chuckled but Artyom heard the uneasiness the other male had while talking. He lowered his knife and looked around them. He couldn’t help but wonder as he noticed that Pavel still held physical contact. It was endearing that Pavel really seemed to care. At least for now. His affection seemed to be a really unpredictable thing that came and went as it pleased…. Artyom looked around. The tunnel was dark, just their little fireplace gifted them with some light. Looking into the fire always calms him down a bit. He sighed and massaged his temple. His dream left him with one hell of a headache.

“You alright, chuvak?”

Artyom returned his look misty-eyed, it got Pavel in a way that sent shivers down his spine. The sounds in this tunnel, some sort of really quiet moans and pleas, got under his skin already, so Artyom’s behavior wasn’t helping. He had no fucking idea how his companions had the nerve to sleep in a place like this.

“...I dunno.”

His answer was nearly not audible.

“I think… I think that the dark one is near. Very near. I’ve got a strange feeling…”

Pavel flinched at that word and realized in the same moment that he was still touching Artyom. He shied away from the younger male, cleared his throat and hurriedly stood up.

“Now we’re talking again about feelings, eh? I’m sure there will be plenty of time _after_ this fucked up mission. Maybe with your wife?”

Artyom blinked.

“What the hell, Pavel?”

[Wow. Didn’t see that one comin'...]

Zhenya was just as perplexed as Artyom was.

-“You boys okay?”

Nikolai sat up with a friendly smile. How long has the old man been awake? Pavel stretched his muscles and controlled his munition with ostentation.

“Yeah, of course. Good you’re awake now. Poyekhali! (Let’s go!) The sooner we leave this place the better!”

“Uh...”

Nikolai looked to Artyom in confusion and lend him a hand to help him get up.

“...Is everything alright with him?”

Artyom shrugged.

“I have no idea...”

“Hm.”

With that statement they extinguished their fire and followed the Red further into the tunnel.

 

“Boys, you smell that, too?”

The old Hansa was looking kinda stressed to the two younger men. Pavel was silent which was odd, but he hadn’t talked much since they left. Artyom shivered. There was no other smell he hated more than burned flesh. It reminded him of Oktyabrskaya where the virus was unleashed -because of Pavel… Artyom still do not know how the other man thought about his past actions now. If he thought about all those people that he helped to murder. How they started bleeding nearly everywhere. How some were killed with flamethrowers even before the virus showed any signs on them. How they massacred them, burned them out of their homes like rats. His anger rose with those poisonous thoughts but he tried his best not to comment something regarding that matter. It was hard but he managed to stay silent.

The tunnel got darker and darker with every step they took. Their flashlights flickered. Then they were left in darkness. Pavel was cursing under his breath.

“Blyakha-mukha! (Fucking hell!) That was bound to happen! Just our fucking luck, eh, D’artagnan?”

Wind whooshed in their faces, it send shivers down their spines. Nikolai paused.

“It is not only the smell that freaks me out. You feel that eerie atmosphere, too, don’t you?”

Artyom nodded before he was reminded by Zhenya that his companions could not see that. They had no night vision goggles like him. He pondered.

“...The air is thick with anger. And loss. Maybe sadness, too.”

Artyom’s whispered words got Pavel’s attention. He was frowning at him. Artyom didn’t like those kind of expressions directed at him. Like he was strange. Something alien.

He sighed in annoyance and crossed his arms.

“What is it now, Pavel?”

“...Nothing, nothing! It’s just… _How exactly_ do you know that? I mean, come on, don’t tell me you don’t know how crazy you sound!”

“I am not crazy, Pavel!”

-“Would you two shush now? I think I heard something!”

Artyom felt the attack before he saw it.

“It’s the dark one!”

His companions were already on the brink of falling to the ground. Artyom heard their pained screams but he remained somehow nearly unaffected. His headache was pounding more heavily but otherwise he had no difficulties.

The dark one appeared right before him. He had to look up to look into her face. He felt her wish to destroy him. But somehow her hand was hesitating right before his face. He felt their minds intertwine. Felt her shock as she realized what was about to happen. She tried to cut their connection but it was too late. She was sucked inside his head, surrounded by darkness.

Both bodies fell to the cold ground of the tunnel.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, shit's about to start.... Consider the additional tags before continuing, please!

Artyom moaned in agony. Everything hurt so much, it was hardly bearable. His soul ached, but the Dark One continued, oblivious to his pleas. Ravaging his bare consciousness. Digging deeper and deeper, regardless his best efforts to stop it. She got to his journey first, then reaching his childhood. He had to watch again how he was dragged away from his mother, she and everything behind them being overwhelmed by big, fat, horrifying rats. Their munching sounds made him sick.

She let him suffer. Exposing him again and again to that hurtful memory. The loss of his mother.

She mocked him with his failure to remember her face, pressed the pain, the guilt, the self-loathing inside his very being. Again and again.

He felt like suffocating. Everything laid bare before her, so why did she still searched for something new, while there wasn't anything left? ...He realized through his pain-clouded mind that this was a lie. He knew why she thought that she hadn’t discovered everything yet. And the answer was very simple: Because she hadn’t.

He registered with horror that she indeed found that something. Something he had guarded even while being tortured. No. Not something. Someone. Not his son, he was far away at the moment. He was safe. It was...someone dangerously close to where he was...where he had been… _Pavel! -_ God, if she knew what he meant to him! A new way to torment him with. Or what if she’ll try to get to Pavel, hurting him instead?

_“Show me your heart’s desire… Show me!...”_

Panic flooded through his veins.

_“You took all of my loved ones… Show me yours… Don’t fight me, child.”_

She got angry. He sensed that she was mad at herself, at her weak condition. Because otherwise she would already have what she wanted. Her weakened body was his blessing truly. Her cutting efforts hurt worse. He knew that it was just in his mind, but his senses were certain that she was scratching his real skin open bit by bit.

_“I can sense him… Show me who he is and everything will end… -The pain will stop.”_

She was close to the truth. Artyom could feel her sickening satisfaction of almost reaching her goal. He saw the silhouette of Pavel in the distance, felt her creeping closer. Her paw reaching for him.

_“I’ll be so kind and rip him out of your life for good.”_

-“No!”

With all his might he pushed her back, his eyes opened in an instant.

His breathing was ragged, his mouth somehow tasted like ashes. He never has felt more disgusted with himself as he did right now without being able to tell why.

-“Oh, you’re awake.”

A man in a white coat looked at him. That sign… A Nazi! That was some annoying information, which did not really surprise him though. He frowned. Where were the others? Struggling a bit he noticed that he was restrained to some sort of desk, it had a painfully resemblance to his “special time” with that maniac Korbut.

“You can struggle all you want, those are really tight ones. You won’t escape while wearing them, for that I can guarantee.”

He smiled at him. It made Artyom’s stomach twist. God, he felt awful… His vision was kind of blurring with tiny white dots appearing everywhere he tried to concentrate on. As for example this really painful looking surgical equipment on that desk to his side.

“I’m curious, what exactly is your connection to that Red Line Major again? I am told you two are old enemies. Therefore you may understand that I’m confused about your ongoing cries for that man.”

Artyom blinked, something disgusting arose inside his torso, forcing him to swallow hard. But the feeling just got worse. The way that man looked at him… It was sickening. That stranger was truly dangerous... While thinking this a hand pressed itself on his thigh in some nauseous kind of way that forced strange pictures inside his head. Pictures that contained unpronounceable happenings. His body halfway exposed. Those cruel brown eyes above him. Pants being opened right before his very eyes, his face being held in place while-

He stopped. The nausea finally taking over. At least his head wasn’t restrained, probably because of what had happened earlier. -God! He gagged, having again that sickening taste of something entirely awful in his mouth. He put his head to the side right before he had to submit himself to vomiting the little amount of food his stomach contained.

The stranger shouted at him, but Artyom just heard some sort of ringing sound. He registered with dulled surprise that the Dark One was behind that man, similar tied like him. He wondered how this could be possible before he felt a mental attack again that would’ve him buckled over with the sheer force, but due to his restraints he was just painfully pressed against those before he hit the metallic operating table hard with his head which made everything spin.

He felt like he was drowning in agony again. Fighting in despair for control.

 

 

Pavel felt pain before he was able to open his eyes. He looked around, took his surroundings in. There wasn’t much to see, really. In fact everything was dark. He could not see his own hand right before his face. But the smell was indication enough to strongly assume that he was in some sort of prison cell. Well. In other words he got captured. _Again._

He groaned. His head hurt like hell! Surely that black thing that knocked them all out did a pretty good job. Well, to be true, just he and that Hansa-guy fell to the ground quickly after it’s appearance, but...

“Artyom?”

He moaned as soon as he tried to call after his friend. The noise of his own voice left him with a sharp pain that forced him to close his eyes again.

“Blyakha!” (Fuck!)

Growling he rubbed his temple, feeling the dried blood on his left side. He tried to sit up and decided that this was way harder than it should be. Everything spun. Or at least he thought that it did, with everything around him in darkness it was really hard to figure that out. He hold his breath for some time, trying to hear something, hopefully some familiar respiratory sounds. But there was nothing. Wait. Some muffling sound.

“Nu, that’s kinda weird...”

At least he was pretty sure that they hadn’t been captured by his own men. He knew their cells for traitors and all kinds of shit-faced freaks, and this here was completely alien to him. They had many really bad places for their enemies, but nothing like a dark room. At least none he knew. But he wasn’t about to allow himself to believe anything else. Certainty, order, those things were essential for staying sane these days.

A pitiful moan echoed through this place, it made him realize that this here was not only a single cell, but probably a whole floor full of such. Or maybe-

Light flooded inside, he effortlessly tried to examine the appearance of that certain someone that had to be responsible for it. A tiny light bulb at the ceiling switched on, it’s light way more dimmed, allowing him to watch four men entering the corridor. One look and he knew.

“Of course it had to be fuckin’ Nazi’s…”, he murmured to himself while carefully positioning himself at the damp wall behind him, lowering his head so that his face was hopefully clouded in shadows and those that entered would not get the impression that he was awake.

“Stillgestanden! (Attention!)”

They stood there comically straight, scanning the cells.

“Where is that damn Red the Doc wants to see?”

The bigger one pointed at Pavel.

“That’s him.”

“Good, get back to your post, we’ll take it from here.”

The big one, probably the guard, left. The other three entered his cell. Well, fuck. He supposedly had to play by their rules for now. At least until he had any idea why he had been captured and where the fuck he was.

“Aufstehen!” (Get up!)

He was shoved to his feet. On their way across the corridor, along the stairs, the soldiers talked in muffled voices. They sure were young, maybe just started their service. The other one though was definitely more experienced, he glanced at them with a disapproving glance, but said nothing to stop the young ones.

They reached some sort of, well, clinic? Hard to tell with all the dirt and those boxes standing in the way. It seemed like a new outpost of some sorts. Or maybe they rearranged everything to match a different purpose than before?

They stopped and he was pushed inside a tiny room with a big, slightly cracked glass. He knew those kind of windows, they were used to watch another room. The two young soldiers that hold him tight got closer to the glass. Pavel glanced over warily. He registered that the room was mostly empty, carts and boxes standing around. In the middle of the room was some sort of table and atop of it lied- he couldn’t stop himself from inhaling sharply. It was Artyom!

His heart pounded inside his chest, blood rushing through his veins. He tried to stay cool, but found it hard to care. Especially as he saw that awful smile of that fucker to his right.

“What sick games are you playing, you foul piece of-”

He was hit before he could finish. He bit is bottom lip by accident and now had to deal with the metallic taste he hated so much. His side hurt, but it was bearable. Maybe he shouldn’t anger them any further, not before he hadn’t found out what exactly their motives were… Sorrowful his eyes darted back to the cause for his anger. Artyom was laying there without a move, his face almost entirely without any color. It was frightening seeing him there.

The young soldier to his left tugged the other one, distracting Pavel in his train of thoughts.

“Eh, you sure that is the one? The Invisible Man? ...He looks so...young?”

“I’m sure. Why else do you think he’s restrained together with that beast?”

Pavel shivered. What beast were they talking a-

“Blyakha-mukha!” (Fucking hell!)

Pavel shivered in horror, just now realizing that in the back of that room there was the Dark One, restrained and hanging at the wall motionless just the same as Artyom. -How were the Nazi’s able to hold it like that? And why weren’t any of those two moving? Were they dead? His chest tightened painfully. That couldn’t be! He tried to calm down, fighting for his composure.

The older soldier, the one that hit him, watched him thoroughly with a blank face, it made Pavel angry at himself for allowing the man to read him like that and assuming god knows what. It was more than careless to lose his shit like that! Growling he looked back at that Nazi scum, eyeing him as fiercely as possible for his situation.Which maybe wasn't that advisable, but well, you only live once, right? Better do it with style! -He couldn't help but smile. Humor always helps to outlive such shitty situations. 

Someone entered their small space with a loud squeak of the door. He wore a mostly white coat, some really horrible glasses and looked definitely like he was in charge. A small man with power... Pavel hated those kinds of men. Often enough these happened to be the worst ones.

“What do you want?”

"Don’t you worry. I just need clarification regarding some...personal matters. -I know, I know, no one likes to reveal such things, but believe me, telling me will be beneficial for both of us.”

Pavel scoffed. But the man stayed unimpressed.

“Take a seat.”

“I prefer standing.”

The man stared at him, Pavel was sure he would be forced to sit, but in the end the stranger just shrugged and sat down himself.

“As a matter of fact, my work depends on your cooperation, which is the only reason you're still alive, believe me..." He smiled at him. Pavel barely managed to stay silent. That man's smile just got a bit wider -and somehow more dangerous, too. "I guess you have already noticed my other guest over there?”

Pavel just stared at him. Something was odd with that individual, he could tell.

“Unfortunately he is our only link to those creatures, those "Dark One’s", as they’ve been called lately. And, well, as a matter of fact we need to understand this connection. You may have noticed that he’s almost immune against the side effects of their speech -or whatever you want to call their attempts of establishing contact.”

He scratched his almost blank head, only on his sides were some strands of hair left. Strangely that scratchy sound , together with some disgusting amount of scall, sent shivers down Pavel's spine.

“Sadly it remained impossible for me to stabilize dear Artyom’s condition so far. I simply didn't expect that he truly has no motivation to keep himself alive, some odd character he has. A true hero indeed." He chuckled lowly at that, while Pavel felt his rage burning inside him -and his worry alike. What exactly did that man mean? Artyom wouldn't just give up on himself! ...or would he? Ignoring his conflict the Nazi went on. "So, this is where you may come in handy -actually I'm pretty sure that this here will work. After all, you're Red. And Reds care deeply for their Communism, don't they? We'll may be interested in sharing our information regarding this experiment with you, working together on this. We may be faster that way. With the Ranger we'll find a way to bind those creatures to our will! We could use those Dark Ones to get the Metro under our control -and finally restoring order!”

Pavel frowned. His stomach twisted with every word that came out of that mouth.

"I won't help you with this fucked up shit!"

"Ah, my condolence.", the man sighed, his face lost every bit of soft outlines he had forced upon himself. With squinted eyes in oppressed anger he flipped and immediately the Nazi's hold him tighter again. "And here I thought I could make a deal -one hand washes the other and all that, but well. You decided, I won't dwell on the past." He eyed the soldiers. "Gentlemen? Hold him good."

He got closer, taking a big, fat needle out of his coat. Pavel tensed. Maybe, if he hadn't been such an emotional idiot, he could've played their game -at least long enough to get a clue of their situation. He had always been such a good spontaneous actor, but right now, for the first time since many years, there was so much at stake...

He felt an almost light pain at his neck, seriously too damn frightened of that needle getting somewhere it really shouldn't, and drifted into unconsciousness seconds after that. His vision was already getting obscure.?

Right before the last spot of light went away he heard that painful and yet bittersweet little voice he hadn't heard for many years calling him with joyous laughter.

_"Nana!" (Daddy!)_


End file.
